Cheryl Derby

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The Still Place
His head inclined,
The sweet secret he keeps, given up to the stars
First points emerging, whispering quietly, bitterly, wisely
My love hangs in the balance
Summer's close as an unborn child
My dress made of earth, moist at the waist, tight to my chest
Somewhere there is a roof where taps its stone note
But I am full of the soaked sweet clover unstoppered,
The sky is blue with clouds
They want to miss you but they have forgotten how
Each whiteness blows away but one more moves in until the day becomes
A clock of clouds


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6/21/2021 5:03:04 PM #