9/23/2020

Room Lit by a Bottle of Miracle-Gro

Your hands slip 

for a brief moment

out of the fog, 

but I can’t tell 

if you’re holding out 

or waiting to receive

some invisible platter.


[LSS, 9/23/20]

at

No comments:

Post a Comment

Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)

Morning Report A wall of paper fortunes and threads,   a letter shredded, made into tea, the dream of order slipped   into every cup in my c...

  • (no title)
    Sleepy Time   A pile of spent tea bags,  a loose leaf atlas of dreams,  and sketches for the person  you wish to wake into  tomorrow mo...
  • (no title)
      Bears   four and twenty blackberries caked onto the waiting sky sliced wide open, dripping juice stains on linen   a one man...
  • (no title)
    Prana, Circling four hours wakefulness in the center of the night kitchen paced, food heated, cold tea sipped while fruit rats, armadillo...