Sunday tree of afternoon tea
patches up the tuesday
sun of eye and teeth
under mid week life
sleep defied
now recline, it's sunday
Four white chairs face
the road
in shade to keep watch of the sun,
and dean who used to commentate the hours
has now since left this quiet chair to me.
the thought of being a
stranger on a church bench,
to under God's watching eye my noon
time spent
all got cancelled by the grey haired scandal
why are we left so little dignity?
death upon mother's mantle
In sunday moments I still watch for a
little
cloud hole
for up to climb
on up we climb
or else
No comments:
Post a Comment