Grace

[michaelboy]

It easily transpires in a fingertip
the simplest of frail gestures
scrawling scraps of handwriting
never again embrace an earthly voice as a pond rippling in unending memory
and the everyday scent of wonder

Comments

[tactilemuse]

This is lovely, reminds me of quiet mornings at a desk waiting on the sun to come up. Hope you're well!

[michaelboy]

Thank you. I always loved those quiet mornings when I worked in downtown Pittsburgh. I'd get to work a few hours early to have time before others arrived. I am well.