Fiction, Fabulous Fabrication, or Fact?
You be the judge--please ask permission before copying, citing, or otherwise using any part of this blog--
Wednesday, July 27, 2016
Holding Night, Meeting Day
Both arms occupied and which one
do I let go into the other?
Night is my friend, moon,
no shadows around the bouquet.
Sound of midnight's promise,
long whistles lasting
into the past, why write it down?
The fruit trees are still so loaded.
The shame of waste. The ecstasy.
Each moment passing, ticking by.