Rumors descend
That cloud
like dirty milk
or mist on glass
Under the stairs
fold in
Be still
The quiet
in our ears
grown much
too loud
Wasps & hornets
lie down
on the porch
Every tendril
quivering
In response to an entry from the Morning Porch.
Wonderful. Maybe more so with Dave’s Tweet still ringing in my ears from a few hours ago.