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Sonja Benskin Mesher
Poems
May 2015
. soft grass .
so tired that you could
fall gently onto soft grass
and sleep?
that nothing seems sensible any more,
no space exists around you?
will your legs still carry you along?
sometimes is best to stop a while,
think on the situations of others.
listen to the words of history, the stories
of others, then up from the lawn, to wonder.
sbm.
note –
wherewithal
ˈwɛːwɪðɔːl/
Written by
Sonja Benskin Mesher
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