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Not Always Thus

The trouble is: We want more and more

and then more of this.

 

Only this morning: Relaxing over coffee,

James Taylor singing Fire and Rain,

A tiny black and orange bird at the feeder

we’d never seen before,

the summer light just so

on the bed of daisies out front.

This very morning.

 

The word I am looking for is savour.

Savour this:

It will not –

oh, it cannot,

last.

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Writer and Poet

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Tricia McCallum

Always be a poet. Even in prose.
Charles Baudelaire.

In essence I am a storyteller who writes poems. Put simply, I write the poems I want to read.[…]

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Tricia McCallum

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Thanks for sharing

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