in Poetry 61 Words

trace

i only ask for a daily taste
a trace in the white space
i left in passing by
hi on a daily basis
you know just face the air
and then pronounce what arrives
all of our lives in endless showers
even the trees and the rain
speak tenderly and reverently of the holy
eternal sparks that are ours

©John Greenleaf-Maple 6/7/17

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