Inkless Thoughts
June 8, 2022
Miracle Man
As a poet, some mornings, I find no words,
these days I reminisce of youthful blush.
As dawn is breaking, come sounds of birds,
penetrating the air of this mornings hush.
From the patio I sit, with morning Joe in hand,
thoughts held captive by the wind chimes lips.
Pondering recent shooting’s throughout the land,
and praying this nation soon comes to grips.
Political solutions have been largely hot air,
compromise is foreign to a political tongue.
It brings in to question do they really care?
When most of the solutions appear far flung.
Copyright © Tom Wright | Year Posted 2022
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