Thursday, June 25, 2026

Ephemera

Poetry isn't a task, a chore, or project.

It's a joyful moment,

An ephemeral process of

Reaching up into the ethers

And grasping whatever is there. 


Looking at it,

Witnessing it,

Having a conversation with it.


Poems are like birds,

Each with its own flight,

Nest and favorite tree.

Each with its own version of song.


Birds occasionally flock together

On the lawn to gather food

Or fly away for

The winter.

Do poems?

 

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