In Pursuit
Don’t give up until you drink from the silver cup.
America
Dust in the air glistens gold
and random words dance
as I let thoughts wander.
My loft, an empty chamber.
dormant ground
outside my window
brushstrokes of grays and browns
Another prompt, and I
wonder how to say
something never said.
Memories I embrace.
a morning in February
winter lingers
lost conversations
alarm bell-snooze-alarm
once- twice-again
my chest bears the weight
of something ageless and true.
time whispers
in every moment
a promise of spring
I bear my age
but throw off covers
knowing there’s so much
left to do—a new poem awaits.
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