'I want the things that exist, not the time that measures them.'

~ alberto caeiro




a poem that wasn't meant to be

 

watching the sun set   

drinking wine   

the three of us   talking and not talking 

 

the air is soft in the last light of day   

the stones of this patio

these rows of vines   the greening hills

 

of the earth itself   radiate warmth 

even as the air turns chilly   

the conversation is good   our friendship is good   

 

whatever thoughts i have will not become a poem    

i am in the moment   

replete    sated    content

 

no need to quantify with lines and stanzas  

but lines and stanzas come regardless

 





Poetry by one trick pony The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 633 times
Written on 2018-04-15 at 20:55

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What a very calming poem. I enjoyed it.
Ashe
2018-04-18


Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
That's how the mind of a writer works. It isn't real until it's written.
2018-04-17


shells
It's one of those special, easy moments that you remember, but the poet in you puts it into your archive and shares it with us, thanks. I'm lucky enough to have some of those moments to treasure too.
2018-04-16