Cusp V Clasp
Listen to poem:
the telephone wires
fan out just like the sun's rays
but offer no warmth
they are but lines up above
connecting all the houses
the warmth of the sun
covers all during the day
but not if hidden
the sun just is and will be
connection hangs in the sky
the orchestrator
the one who dictates my warmth
surely is myself
if I sit quietly cold
I can make changes to that
Copyright © Di11y Da11y | Year Posted 2023
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