Saturday, July 11, 2020

The hour of soon-be-night


How quickly withers a vivacious flower,
its petals strewn over the ground beneath
that weaves them into one enormous wreath
of things-that-were. How swiftly does the hour
of dawn give way to that of soon-be-night
that might lose recollection of the day
that passed before it, or forever stay
trapped in a single moment…or it might
turn out to be as gentle as the wind
that lifts the fallen petals, takes them far
away, over the rainbow, round the bend —
where things-that-were are swinging on a star.


Live for the Love of it,

Sasha A. Palmer (aka Happy)




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