On Writing

POEM A DAY – August 24

donation

as I bathed in trees
watched my friends
my family work hard
looked at the grey
clouds bringing the
sky ceiling to where
I could reach up
& touch it

I did that I touched it
& I felt old storms
tingling out of my
fingertips donating
my sorrows to the
space between
the treetops & the
soaring hawk

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