365 Sonnets. #23. 12–31–17

Sometimes I gaze and hold quite still to please

allowing darkness to consume my lung.

it suffocates in motion slow, like bees

dying off quiet in a silent hum.

“What a time to be ALIVE!” he said and tossed

his paper down. “I can’t,” I said, a song

only for me as brushing past he lost

the orange I’d picked and squeezed all morning long.

sometimes I feel an ache, so deep, I shrink

in bones I never knew I had. and oh-

the mail man walks up toward my door, I think-

Deliver me like unexpected snow-

a burden beautiful in stillness- I’ll

be still. like snow. like bees. just for a while.

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