Morning Breath

What fortune allows the pre-sun shadows 
To bear their blankets upon my eyes 
Under such covers a sparrow yellow breeze 
Generously sings, alto for the crabapple 

Growth and flourishing at the end of 
A fervent summer 
Delimit nothing, express all 

Whereas the lake in midday 
Crashes to its own tune 
Denying that paradoxes 
Might vex a living soul 

Leave a comment

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s