RIGOUR – II

 

Snowflakes
do their morning job
falling softly
candles shimmer in whispers
at night.

The woods are dark
deep promises unkept
in broken miles
before the sleep.

Recede ascend repeat
the globe spins
discord clamors
shrieking colorfully.

Let go the rigour.

 

– Diane Sophrin
  Montpelier, Vermont (12.13.23)

 

Homage to Attila József (link) and Robert Frost (link)

click here to open in PDF format