On the icy waves
of a dark spring day, the ducks
are quite voluble.
They stick together
on the broken waves, their words
a comfort like those
a poet overhears
in the poem she writes so
she can write again.
NEAR PROVIDENCE 7.4.21
On the icy waves
of a dark spring day, the ducks
are quite voluble.
They stick together
on the broken waves, their words
a comfort like those
a poet overhears
in the poem she writes so
she can write again.
Metaxyturn Diaries 