SATURDAY SINKING INTO SENTIENCE

Saturday. ..

sinking into sentience,

shrinking regret
and petty penitence,

to let heart flower
in its way. . .

remembering
one’s deep importance,

as, almost imperceptibly
the August day
before us
glib and glorious
dawns, waxes, wanes
and shortens,

awaiting
our next expected morn
that’s to come and show us
the wild-bright
and roundest moon
right in our true sight’s way.

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This entry was posted in Autumn, Days of the Week, Poetry, Quick reads, Seasons, Summer and tagged , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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