Anew Too


The Wisdom of the Heart
sits to my left not right,
perhaps inappropriately,
but Henry Miller is sinistral
here though not unwise.

My wisdom is sitting nowhere
uncentered, snowflake swirled
or ground fallen.
Perhaps it will peek
up again crocus-like

when spring breaks
somewhat later in this town,
April being not a cruel month;
just days knitting my unravelled petals
back together,

looking for a green bench,
momentarily empty,
but with enough slanted sunlight
to bloom.

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byAngeline© 9 comments/ 4707 views/ 0 favorites

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