A Shawl Time Lent


The ticking pools the quietness

Of gathering skeins of time

And keeping quietly clicking

Knits peaceful solitude and warmth


Green and orange

Flashes of brown


No murmeration

A whisper maybe

Fly quietly


But crisply underfoot

Ground down

Wetted and skeletal

And gone


Breathing quietly

At rest


For a moment

A second, an hour

Could be either or both

Bliss needs no timeline

And silence is warmth


The greening

The fruitfulness bursting

The harvest

The cold – blue grey and white

To the greening again

And the promise of light

This entry was published on April 23, 2019 at 7:40 pm. It’s filed under poetry, Promote yourself, Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.

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