One hour twenty minutes
on the dock
when only birds
and I roused
over delicate waves
watched several wispy
white puffs from
the lake’s length
lilt our way
assumed trash yet
awaited the exhibits
salvage our marriage
during the meanwhile?
exquisite catalpa tree
blossoms masquerading as
orchids wafted in
it must be
too late when
I still expect
waste from the
exalted
3 thoughts on "One hour twenty minutes"
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Yes! Gold, herein.
great imagery
and the search for personal
meaning in nature’s signs
Last stanza is a killer.