stretch me in the wake of the sun
the hiss of
an autumn morning
my triumph and the bold
return in the dust
of a season less
faltered by a creased brow.
the scent of a
decaying leaf
in a child's palm
awakens us to love
and the secret life
of rags and fools
It is always good to read your poetry. Thos one is beautiful, wistful even.
ReplyDeleteKatyssima, I love it!
ReplyDeleteLyrical and romantic, with a special sense of joyful submission to the power of love. Loving it!
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