Late Summer Notebook

Nothing on earth
can solace me
as does your voice

over the phone

at ten o'clock pm

saying goodnight


August 29th:
even the sun-steeped air
smells brown and tired


Wondering if Jennifer
the Episcopal priest
should hear my litany

of things done ill


Corinne Bailey Rae
puts her wreckoards on
and wins my heart
with her sunny smile

Poetry by Thomas DeFreitas The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 117 times
Written on 2019-09-03 at 08:03

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