At first the night, and then
the reckoning, that special brand
of dread, like a sleeping
limb, still there, present,
painfully so
.
something blooming just outside
the yard not jasmine not lilac not
honeysuckle not any flower I know
or have managed yet to find–
.
if a lesson, like a scent,
intangible,
volatile
[+A million apologies for being derelict in wordpress activity of late]
OPTIONAL POETRY 
`put me in mind of Bowie’s ‘There’s Something in the Air’
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Deep, very deep….
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It’s nice to be reading one of your poems again. I haven’t written or read on a long time, so it’s like coming back to a favorite watering hole.😊
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I was starting to miss your words, miss…
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