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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