diaric, poetry

Loomingssoak

When you reeled in the support you have
craved for longer than was necessary,
when you will rest.
When you will tender your
skin, your bones, your body whole with warm
water, scrubs and salt and lotions, with musics

a pair of blue-covered books (a song and a whale of a tale)
the virginal moon, snow-full

and yes, it is snowing again. 
and yes, i was warned about today’s wrinkles
and yet, the calendar insists–come to meet
and I must spur on.


If you surrendered to the air, you could ride it.

Toni Morrison, Song of Solomon

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One thought on “Loomingssoak

  1. Pingback: saison calendular | bardic bullion

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