Sunday, April 01, 2018

The Cherita, January 2018

Issue: "Winter, no fixed abode"

even when

words might seem
d i s c o n n e c t e d

you will find
a pattern to the way
of everything

beside a rubbing tree

where bears
leave their scent

I plant my feet
firmly in their prints,
and walk into the wild


galaxies drip
from your sleek pelt

I have always known
that you were made
of light

I talk to trees

this language
is not new to me

in every turning season,
another adjective
for love

A Cherita Lighthouse Award

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