Between the Acts

This entry is part 57 of 92 in the series Morning Porch Poems: Spring 2011

 

Strange cries that filter through the fog
and trees: blur of goldfinch and raven wings,
loping legs of deer. In between these acts,
a silence which I color every now and then
with my own speech, or tears.

 

In response to an entry from the Morning Porch.

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2 Replies to “Between the Acts”

  1. Hi Peter — all of a sudden your comment took me back to some years ago when a friend took me to a fancy French restaurant in Chicago; in between courses, they brought out little scoops of lemon sorbet to cleanse the palate. :)

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