Maybe not a bed of roses,
surely more than blade of grass!
Longing for special-
special to someone,
special in something,
special a purpose…
In foaming to grasp
illusive that spot,
phases of moon
pass me by,
birdsong fades in
noise of waves…
Magic is lost, of
common a life
-unsung as
that twig unseen,
in breaking of which
flowers fall…
My Life’s Outcome
November 14, 2024
My Life’s Outcome One by one they goBreaking me into piecesLeaving me to collectAnd slowly get upI doTo liveBut now a jigsaw puzzlewrongly fixedI
