SUNDAY POEM

When it’s freezing in February
February and freezing

I’ll slip into my story quilt and dream.

emerald droplets fly into the night
from the cup of my hands in your cold,
swift waters. sky widens the arc of your
unknown

When it’s freezing in February
in February, freezing

my story slips quilted into dreams.

The sky has its own gravity. Fire-flies
streak like songs into the night; the eyes
of shooting stars.

When it’s freezing in February
and February is freezing

my quilt slips dreaming into story.

who are you?
naked
orphan?
egg

watch the lines on your palms
shift, woman, like sand on this river bed

the moon bends to listen
to the hush

begin

When it’s February, February, freezing, February
story, quilt, dream.

……………………………………….

As always, you’re welcome to come play Poetry with me. Share your poems, responses and insights in Comments.

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