Pastorale

The best part of the day arrives before the sun,
Before the hip begins to howl. It comes when all
The leaves are damp, and poems start to write themselves,
And coffee's odor fills the room, and I'm not coughing
Too much yet. I am sitting in a chair, enveloped
In the dusky light, imagining that I might get
To be with you.




Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
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Written on 2018-06-12 at 12:56

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Thomas DeFreitas The PoetBay support member heart!
This is an excellence, indisputably so. Direct, simple, compelling as the best of Asian poetry.
2018-06-13


Ashe
My favorite time of day too, and you are right that it also holds hope more than any other time of the day. I like the poem.
Ashe
2018-06-12