Get Your Premium Membership

Perfume

mystical sunday morning of a smile
an inward lightly scented
point of view

elusive wisps of crisp air
jazz brushing across the wet, warm sun/sky
of bluish, outstretched
blue

uncluttered by any
unremitting
angel.  bad or good.
restored form grand sorrows, or
not.
whether fettered to a tall roost, or
fallen to the hard
ground

no conjuring up of
clanking, carping
ghost
chains .
clanking & complaining about
half - witted
histories

no horses to ride my thoughts too wide.  no thoughts to skittishly hurry
my horses
limping
by

scattered.  odd and addle -
brained
sludge stuck in
gobbling.  lying.  whining.  and short - 
sighted

the epiphanies of these horrors,
they skate away
for the moment
salted to taste, with
all the time in the
world

this moment with its
vague sense of
well - being

this momentary
minute
with its vague, comforting
sense of
density

Copyright © | Year Posted 2021




Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.

Please Login to post a comment

A comment has not been posted for this poem. Encourage a poet by being the first to comment.


Book: Reflection on the Important Things