POEM OF THE DAY
September 17
Eight hours. Enough for everything
to run tired ~
Whenever I step away
from my swath of sky, my water-lush
lip of the planet, I wonder
will my house survive
the alley cats of rainstorms, the monarch filled streets ~
When did I convert to domesticity with a house key?
Eight hours. Enough for everything
to run tired ~
Whenever I step away
from my swath of sky, my water-lush
lip of the planet, I wonder
will my house survive
the alley cats of rainstorms, the monarch filled streets ~
When did I convert to domesticity with a house key?