Monday, January 10, 2022

The purpling red of ripening berries,
warm sweetness, flashes against stark, snowy white,
dark fucshia fireworks against winter’s brightness,
silent bursts, eye to finger to tongue. 

Kindling, carefully collected and piled just so,
sparks, awakening some inner-kettle
whose whistling steam powers our stillness,
a toy train circling its track.

Thick black ink, thoughtful against brown paper,
directs hands and trucks, covers colorful folds
holding clear, faceted glass ready to break the sun
into pieces, red to violet and back again.

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love notes
a ritual to start the work week