PHOTO :: DOUG CRITES-MOORE
EIGHT PM
Late April at 8pm –
Day is done,
Night not yet come,
Peepers calling through the boggy woods,
A certain texture in the air.
Sweep the porch, feel ageless,
I’m not seventeen, I’m not 92,
I'm just here,
I’m always,
Spirit.
It's the final day of poetry month. I hope you've enjoyed my selections. Today, I'm sharing one of my own.