Friday, July 31, 2020

A Different Season

Perhaps I asked the wrong question 
of this place
at such a time

Imagining what we've become
at that time
in this place

Discovering us borderless 
I open to shelter
--maybe laughter?

Like a wave in our spacious sky 
--I who cannot swim
see my shadow float


No comments:

the last supper

There are thirteen of us at the table. But just our awesome, regular selves. (No Jesuses or Judases.) Headed for home come morning! At least...