how did it enter,
this thought
wearing bells
*
scraping morning frost—
sometimes it takes so little
to clearly see
*
shuttering
the pane—still something
slips through
September 24, 2013 by Rosemerry
how did it enter,
this thought
wearing bells
*
scraping morning frost—
sometimes it takes so little
to clearly see
*
shuttering
the pane—still something
slips through
Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged poem, poetry, window | 1 Comment
This one a good mystery, almost like telling stories around a fire. The middle on, though, is the mortar. I like the humor of the first, the mystery of the third, but a moment to see is what the middle is all about.