Space (enormous) where a poet (or the reader of) is lost (temporarily?) in a personal geometry of word-line. Perhaps, found in the cavities of a few words.
On the to-do list (which tends to be enormous), cross everything out except: Read haiku.
Regarding food. Soups & stews. A large pot simmering. Or olives resolute with cavernous taste. Pitted or not.
She's always
ReplyDeleteup to something
and looking back at it
much like a minor victory
seems all the sweeter
after cake
They're always talking
nonsense
at the slightest provocation
it makes me quiet when I should be
laughing
all that sugar on the table
all that fruit
in the bin