June 18

June 18, 2015
by C
comments 6
Uncategorized

These minutes settle
like pollen, or dust–

imperceptible accrual.
A bird sings the same

song, over and over
and over, you’d think

fluency with immersion,
but no, some things

are inscrutable.
Morning cedes

with the ease
of a breeze, enviably.

Recondite self,
what is this ache?

Hope is only
a stop-gap,

always traded
on arrival, here,

now loosen
your fingers,

now show
some grace–

6 Comments

  1. crow's avatar
    crow says

    This could stand on it’s own:

    Hope is only
    a stop-gap,

    always traded
    on arrival, here,

    now loosen
    your fingers,

    now show
    some grace–

    Really beautiful.

    Like

    Reply

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