Tag: short poem

Return

evening crawls toward its end
heavy head leans to hand

eyelids closed tight
as mind drifts toward sleep

brief review of day
contemplation of what is to come

then silence
quiet
return

Unmapped, the Way

Discombobulated am I,

but matters it not.

The wind knows no grammar;

the rain has forgot.

Unraveled the morning,

unmapped, the way—

yet onward the light moves,

indifferent, the day.