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Click herewe don’t advertise
but we strut within
reach of a starving orchid
pampered, saved blindly.
disaster no one claims blame
but a fool who plays and tucks
his arms away, no fault
still dark laughter
tired of feeling cut,
She’s met mistakes
before, felt fracture
no cup can fill this
no smile in sight
on our silver way
to end of poem
It is unusual when a comment is more interesting than the poem.
something about your poetry reminds me not to look to hard, that the meaning IS the feeling
like buying a sweater with your fingers not your eyes