For purposes of restoring a weather-beaten heart

There is no prerogative in the realm of human affairs 
nor breath of air that isn’t tinged with sadness,
a faultless poem if such were ever to be composed
would speak of love as heaven sent
and the moon as epitome of understanding in a plum delia sky,
why is the rosella its own worst enemy?
Why does recognition only appear around stretch of dawning?
At this time of the year I would usually break down
as dust settles upon relics of a bygone age
but there’s something about the way your words touched me
as honeysuckles bloom into summer crossings,
I am thinking of you
of what it would be like hearing you read my work out loud
as hours lead us slowly away from June.



Photo credits: Tarot Cards by Nicoletta Ceccoli, “The Shell Deck” @ellasedge

Posted on Guest Appearance: Ella Wilson @ Real Toads

Also sharing with “the Poetry Pantry” @ Poets United