I wrote many poems this morning, seemed to be in some kind of flow, but I offer this, a snippet of work as hope.
Morning poems -
I wrote many poems this morning, seemed to be in some kind of flow, but I offer this, a snippet of work as hope.
Muse
an ant carries the equivalent of an airplane wing
across my deck, sinks down into a hole to rest.
It is one ant, one wing
that my two eyes identify
as king of a parade
I might now enter
if I pick up writing as light
and honor the flight it brings.
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