Thursday, May 25, 2023

dinnertime rapture


by day's end
the tuning fork stabbed so deep 
into my heart begins to sound 
some kind of song

and the sky is
a syrupy catastrophe--but somehow
now even moths lumbering blindly
signify hope

Pic: Smelling the lilacs with L

1 comment:

Daria said...

Beautiful poem, fills me with hope :)

easy like Sunday mornings

Life was easy today. Being honest so I don't get more undue credit. We stocked up on food for the week, and then... headed for the beach...