Beginning in
black/blue dark
I craft lines like
someone processed.
Poem supposed to fit
on a postcard,
defies sizes design;
no amount of shrinkage
can permit that piece
to fit.
Single finger flies
from keyboard edge
to keyboard edge
as gray dawn of
morning
morphs into unexpected
pastel green.
Sigh…
Save…
Start second stab.
No comments:
Post a Comment