The Pueblo wind
Swept across the desert into my window
Warm swift
Whispered quickly in my ear
After the storm
Shook me from self indulgent mire
Of disappointment and dashed expectations
Sharp light clear
Made shadows dance around me
Lit through silk orange pink curtains
Seeing time philosophical
A journey not rushed before it’s time
Reflected upon through a prism of
Of measured hopeful ends
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment