a morning like this
A morning like this
asks for a slow wander,
pockets open to whatever
the street forgets.
A bolt, a feather,
a bit of wire
bent by weather —
each one a quiet suggestion.
By midday the table
gathers its small findings,
and a shape begins to form,
unplanned, but allowed.
.
Poetry by arquious
Read 142 times
Written on 2026-04-13 at 03:54
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