Through the melting window,
pain in the deep purple
unfurling from broad leaves.
Pain in the gathering of pollen
by frantic honeybees.
Pain in the early fall breeze
in a late morning.
Inside, it is unbearably
mild as well:
A calm sip of tea,
a leisurely perusal of headlines,
a hot shower.
The surface is as smooth as Machine-age glass.
No comments:
Post a Comment