Wednesday, June 23


there is something
about that note
and the melody that
languidly curls in the air
a feathered piece of straw
catching your ear held
by the hands of mozart
and elvis and even
p.d.q. teasing
driftly softly down
blown by the soft 
breeze of progeny
cascading joy rising up 
like incense
holding the gift of
past, present, and future 
the slightest brush of an
angel's wing carrying
the melody onward

love: for National Poetry Month and the Writing Prompt of Poetic Asides (love) and NaPoWriMo.
dedicated to my children


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