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


Daria said...

Beautiful poem, fills me with hope :)

maya said...

Thank you!

Max week

It has been a week of/with/at Max.  I'm so relieved Huck and Max seem to be getting along better. They're not cuddling together (yet...