Porch Poem in These titles mean nothing.
- March 10, 2021, 5:38 p.m.
- |
- Public
The Prow of a ship
The End of the world
The year, the day advance
And I with them.
My breath is caught
The way home is easy
I am grateful for all
I have, I am, I know.
Today is the end of was
The beginning of will be
My perch is precarious
But I hang on tight.
15 Comments
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ConnieK ⋅ March 10, 2021
THAT is your best ever. Breathtakingly written. Get it published.
Just Annie ⋅ March 11, 2021
Beautiful!
NorthernSeeker ⋅ March 11, 2021
Do send that poem in to the New Yorker and your favourite magazines. Now is the nexus we should be in...the Buddhists have that right.
Neogy Titwhistle ⋅ March 11, 2021
Beautiful! Have you got the vaccine yet?
woman in the moon Neogy Titwhistle ⋅ March 11, 2021
Yes, first dose last Tuesday, Moderna. Slightly sore arm, but otherwise easy.
Purple Dawn ⋅ March 11, 2021
I enjoyed that :) Thank you for sharing.
Serin ⋅ March 12, 2021
Well done!
Marg ⋅ March 13, 2021
Very well done!
Jinn ⋅ April 21, 2021
❤️