Monday, March 14, 2022

it would be words

It would be words, undone at last

by your caption, the high life 

loosed like the fire of sudden 

blossoms blazing bright on 

a familiar hillside or nearby field, 

deft and effortless in each 

seam and stitch, the gifts

you incarnate, the skills you

reveal smiling as you sweep

another world aside, 

every blessing burning

sipped softly in frame as

scraps and tatters are lifted, 

the wind rising as if carried

upon your breath, beautiful in

this distance set like a slab 

upon an untended grave.

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