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...
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