February 23

comments 4
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At first the night, and then
the reckoning, that special brand

of dread, like a sleeping
limb, still there, present,

painfully so

.

something blooming just outside
the yard not jasmine not lilac not

honeysuckle not any flower I know
or have managed yet to find–

.

if a lesson, like a scent,
intangible,

volatile

 

 

[+A million apologies for being derelict in wordpress activity of late]

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4 Comments

  1. It’s nice to be reading one of your poems again. I haven’t written or read on a long time, so it’s like coming back to a favorite watering hole.😊

    Like

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