Micropoetry
There is no hurry,
no reason to fall
into the pit of madness.
I see the illusion
and over time,
it melts away.
The candlelight
writes a verse
and the nightingale
sings me a song.
Perhaps they will never
be known or greatly praised,
but are they not
wonderful as they are…
Micropoetry
I see a poem
in every shade
of blue.
Eyes conceal
oceans, skies,
and worlds unknown.
A song can be
in infinitely
many places at once —
hear the blues
echo in distant galaxies
and desolate hearts.
I reach out
even when silence
is the only reply.
I hold on
even…
