ᒋᐸᐩ - poems

for want of kindness

that rarity, that gem,
that pair of shining eyes,
that gentle touch
a soothing voice
of animals and bugs

the melancholic plea
of old lamps in dark rooms
to be okay, collect ourselves,
to take that needed breath

to see, in books, a world
which has since been swallowed
by rich guys with sharp swords…
the wetico is here.

The sun and moon, floating above a sine wave. The earth is below. The wave has spruce trees growing on it!