81st Letter

In the brown-browed

light of the kitchen

at 3.22 am,

in the catlike

light that prowls

 

through the room

whose heating hasn't quite thrust off

a late December chill,

amid the clutter

of this domestic cloister,

 

over the first mug of coffee,

with reverence,

with gentle care,

I pronounce

the blessing 

 

of your name,

Elena,

and something

akin to grace

makes her home

 

in my untidy soul

strewn with blankets,

littered with books,

alive with unforgotten

agonies.    





Poetry by Thomas DeFreitas The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 64 times
Written on 2019-01-14 at 14:19

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Bibek
These short sentences work well to build a secure cadence in the poem. I like the mood and atmosphere that you have built in here.
2019-01-15


Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Delightfully melodious.
2019-01-14