Generosity of candlelight
Reflected from grateful surfaces
Of fruit bowl planets;
Todays winds, that stilled the gentle
Tadpole breaths of unborn lambs,
Carried snow past hesitant windows
Will be gone, gone, gone:
Like the words of a song,
Like hard-to-count years in harness.
From somewhere in the
I almost hear the
Summer banjo players
Getting closer …
And I don’t need to
Check my tickets.