poems from the north, day 4

Image for post
Rose of Sharon blossom — photo, my own

The clarity of another blossom
drops off the rose of Sharon into obscurity.

Circular debates resume about prosperity and luck,
or is it fate which deciphers weather as conversation.

Vanes of distraction shift silent winds
when thicker than what we can currently slice.

Next year will be the same and never. I’ll speak less
riddles and run barefoot over concrete fire.

That and the sun may yet catch
the moon’s tail before dawn’s judgment.

Eventually, loops of life’s cord will
overlap or kismet blooms.

Perhaps they’re one and the same, depending
on how tightly a belt is cinched.

Life happens when clocks stop fighting
for minutes and let the gears decide.

Written by

Holes and a series of rabbits — my debut poetry collection — now available! https://www.amazon.com/dp/B089RRRGXX/

Get the Medium app

A button that says 'Download on the App Store', and if clicked it will lead you to the iOS App store
A button that says 'Get it on, Google Play', and if clicked it will lead you to the Google Play store