Regards to the day, the great long day
that can't be hoarded, good or ill.
What breathes us likely means us well.
We rise up from an earthly root
to seek the blossom of the heart.
What breathes us likely means us well.
We are a voice impelled to tell
where the joining of sound and silence is.
We are the tides, and their witnesses.
What breathes us likely means us well.
My thanks to Teddy Macker for suggesting this poem for the collection.
Art credit: "Ocean Tides," image by unknown photographer.
Secure, flexible tetrameter written with an enviable ease. A beautiful poem!
ReplyDeleteNice poem
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