Full CircleBroken Sunday afternoons mourn.Full Circle5 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
Springtime mends and dusts us off.
The moon finds us all in tattered remains
and weeps openly for the loss.
Sunsets marvel at the love below,
charmed as they walked to the end of days.
They measured their lives with sticks and stones.
Too easy, they break like a habit.
Rain falls to pieces, trembling like unsteady hands.
She kisses all her children below and the seeds
grow up to thank her.
Sandman calls them all to bed;
heavy lids close as they lay to rest.
The nighttime shakes hands with
the morning sun, another day