FOG THICK– A POEM IN FOUR MINUTES

A poem
in four minutes
fog thick
that veils the August sky with gray
but brightness
makes me feel
I’m in a spacious
and a lively bubble. . .

the freeway brushing sound. . .
the soaring sweep. . .
of low flown jet
more like a gentle roar
than a mean and threatening rumble

Complaints in mind I’ve got,
but somehow,
I see, too,
that here I have
in this moment
both a half full
and half emply pot.

And I will give it
my very best
of love and care
in action,
with judicious punctuation
of the intermittent, wise,
confident
and clarifying
thought.

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This entry was posted in Medium Length Poems, Poetry, Seasons, Summer and tagged , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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