A morning like this
asks for a slow wander,
whatever the street forgets
pockets open to ponder:
A bolt, a feather,
a bit of wire
bent by weather —
each one a quiet suggestion.
By midday the table
gathers its small findings,
and a shape begins to form,
unplanned, but allowed.
.
Apr 13
Apr 13, 2026 at 3:10 AM UTC
A morning like this
asks for a slow wander,
whatever the street forgets
pockets open to ponder:
A bolt, a feather,
a bit of wire
bent by weather —
each one a quiet suggestion.
By midday the table
gathers its small findings,
and a shape begins to form,
unplanned, but allowed.
.
