Overnight,
new toadstools
shoulder through
sodden grass
the way sorrows
emerge, one
after another. Traveler,
in a season doubly
scented by windfall
apples and creeping
rot, please sidestep
the lone wet leaf,
beaded with dew
like tiny mirrors.
Those shifting glints
might call to mind
echoes of untended
harm from someone
who loved you
less well
than they meant to.
Let each pendulous
tremor, evoked
by your footfall,
nudge you toward
all that remains
unresolved,
unmourned.
Photo by Ste Wright on Unsplash
Ms. Klein,
The musicality of phrasings, rhythmic lineation, exquisite timing, gentle voice comfort as we experience the sorrow evoked.
Thank you!!!!!