I cried
for a month
and a week.
The ashes
from paradise
fell.
The feral cats
left pawprints
dipped in them
on the windshield.
The rain fell.
Washed them off.
She came to me.
And we knew.
It was plain.
The door
to sunshine
was open,
and the clouds
we saw, could be
whatever we choose
to see: the promises
if we dare to say,
why not?
No comments:
Post a Comment