Notebook: March 4

Who knows how the sun

coaxes the bright greens of spring

from the cold soil, from the black branch?

Perhaps, Aviva, as you sing

the timeless language of psalmody,

you know the secret.



Ode to temporary indolence,

nudging myself alert at the laptop

with coffee and YouTube tunes. 



How could you be unaware

of your own magnificence,

woman of fifty-five

whose sandpaper candour

makes my weary ol' ticker smile?

Poetry by Thomas D The PoetBay support member heart!
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Written on 2020-03-04 at 13:36

Tags Spring  Music  Coffee 

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Bibek The PoetBay support member heart!
Beautiful. That's the only word I can think of for these notebook poems. Simply beautiful.