What if I were the one
standing on a stage—you were
below it, looking up
at me? If it were as simple
as reversing a spring
trench coat, we would have pulled
those sleeves through
their fabric-framed sockets
by now. And, still, these arms
would not be long enough
to extend my real
offering to you.
cool.
LikeLike
Thanks. Nice to see another poet out there in the blogosphere.
LikeLike