Dear one, the sun again

emerges from wherever
it was hiding in the night

and this is all that matters:
you do not need to know
how many shifts it took

to move the axle of the world
to grind the axe that whittles
wood to sliver, string to shiver

waking sigh sifted on the wind—


In response to Via Negativa: Plaint.

Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.