as day descends
on patriotic duty
and domestic necessity
in zen-like state of melancholy
deliberately manipulating
each item's place within
somnambulatory sighs
the air smells of summer
while words tastes of coffee
as conflicting conversations turn
to soaring through the air
infant rodent lives are saved
while giggling over medals
the day is done for both of them
as night is yet to come
No comments:
Post a Comment