ah, love. singing.

weaving through peace lilies

a single swan's head

craning, not yet in bloom

I'm pruning and

you

roll your hands over

keys

soft and sad

the TV mummers

low, dancing along with

laughs emanating from

soft cotton yarn, balled

up and around our raven fawn

warm slats of sun

wander in from the window

and the music

and the shears

and the mummers

and giggling peels

create the song

love intends to hear.

I dare you I dare you
I kiss the frost
from iced shut lips
It's summer
a relief
I love how cold our love is

Short
And sad
You don't want to read anything else.

If
My poem
Is long or happy it stays on the shelf.

I invoke the sun
and the trees
and the whispering wind
in the midnight breeze
to heal and harbor
my fellow man
with light and ease