a poem about perfect love
Is not that easy to write
one I shudder to do
when linking heavenly adjectives
to brilliantly sunny nouns
that cuts out the storm clouds
and wind any lightening
that would split that luscious
space into trembling halves
perhaps it’s better to leave
those unwritten let them follow
the sun or stick to the moon
keep going round and round
and pass above the landscape
the rest of us trudge
on our way to somewhere
just over the next mountain
which becomes the next
and the next
and the next
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