#culturalappreciation
Wither, weary eyes
Come seek me here at high noon
Blind, in the sunlight.
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Silver light sings now
Shadowing the night so deep;
Called, I answer.
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Down where mischief keeps
Its uncertain ***** laughter
I build my garden.
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***** and stick, the thorns
Growing lovely now, the leaves
Rarer still, the rose.
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Icy crystals of frost
Lacing the window like lattice
Fading in the sun.
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Whisper, quiet touch;
Your skin, soft and supple;
My world, beside me.
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Wheezing, hacking hurt
That torments me like the plague
Springs sweet gift to me.
May 19, 2020
May 19, 2020 at 11:10 AM UTC