At home
my aimless mind
writes poemless lines.
Homeless under
trees or sky,
my lines take aim
to fly.

Monday, September 20, 2021

With the petals of summer my companion

I put flowers on the table--
pink and lilac, fuchsia, orange
with the wine-colored mats
and the lemon sugar cookie candle.
With the petals of summer my companion
and the scent of sugar in the air
early in the morning nestling warm, creamy coffee,
surely the anxiousness cannot creep in.

Surely the anxiousness cannot creep in...

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