Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jul 2016
there is a mist, a cloth, hanging,
while i have seen so much. i forgot

to ask about your trip. i had driven
the mountain to see you, parked
nicely, kissed your cheek, talked

about the issues, seen the art work.

this morning is like autumn, though
still in july, softness lowering.

i am so sorry, i forgot to ask
about your trip.

sbm.
Sonja Benskin Mesher
Please log in to view and add comments on poems