Our winter sun is pale-bright,

scattering sighs, it dips into night-

as fog flexes muscles dimming all stars-

my eyes mist and you’re blurred.

A dewdrop displays a pellucid grace,

I watch this day’s gait in a hurried pace-

while I play with words in color of tar-

you peep from my heart that’s left ajar.



Posted for Susan’s Midweek Motif ~ Bittersweet @ Poets United


Shared with Micropoetry Month: Nov 2017 #29 hosted by Thotpurge