Lozenges of light

on the black pond

of my morning coffee.

*

Songs wait patiently

to be sung:

idle prayer-beads.

*

I don't know

what the moon is doing.

Blameworthy, this!

*

What if venom

could blossom?

*

Ars poetica?

Drink coffee.

Listen carefully.

*

Reading list:

Witherup on Roethke,

and then (of course!) Roethke.

*

I did not meditate

yesterday. And so?

Nettles, thorns

remained unconsumed

by divine fire.