22-7-18

there’s frost on the grass
the nasturtium leaves blackened
like sad hearts
you can not help them
only see the flowers
and move things round a little bit
to allow in sunshine

I cast my eyes to the sky always looking

for God
and reach my hand for that hand
far away

 

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This entry was posted in 2018, literature, poem, poems, poetry, writing and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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