My Sunday Morning Offering:
(Photos by Jerri Lynn Sparks)
The Privilege Of Poetry
I can tell a bird by its song
And a broken soul by its brine
A lovely day by its promise
Discerned from what's in mind
I have made questionable choices-
The move across time,
And a move across reason -
But always they were mine...
And so I will have love for breakfast
With those who don't owe it to me
And I will be thoroughly grateful
For the privilege of poetry...
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