Monday, December 25, 2017

When do we ever get to the center



and when do we know?  More to the point, why is that so important?  What's wrong with the edges?  The fringes?  Tonight the moon was cloud-frayed. And so especially enticing.  A meal for the senses. A poem, awaiting for the beloved.  
Posted by at
Labels:

1 comment:

  1. Susan E. GangelJanuary 2, 2018 at 12:49 PM

    long ago and far away the loam's loaded
    the moon's full
    half a meadow's heaving
    and could not be rebuffed--

    all in order for the prince's visit
    she brings the ripeness in

    ReplyDelete

Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)