Aren’t there mornings, when
we need to let others speak
our thoughts?
Of common mind, sharing
sentiment or place with an
uncommon honesty, those
who have lived the day, may
again, as we breathe, as we
read, poetry.
Aren’t their mornings just
like ours? Common thought,
decades and distance make
no difference, as the day is
about to begin.
Aren’t there words that will
already explain how we feel
as we arrive at the day?
Poetry honestly finds a way?
01/16/2018                                           j.g.l.