I Miss those Moments - Dec. 22, 2020

a poem feels the pull of light

as words fertilized by attention

watered by imagination are pruned

to bloom together in a single flourish

before quickly plucked

machine-pressed onto paper

named and numbered for practical application

embellished and reissued for the readable future

compressed and mummified for eternity

I miss the moments they opened

the fragrance of a phrase rising in the sun

or one stanza that brakes time and motions me

closer to listen to its heartbeat

so one recent morning

one gloriously fresh morning

out walking after the rain

smelling the rain

I let one irrigate my being