Rose says there is no mystery

Sometimes I wonder if I make any kind of dent in the rock-hard surfaces that surround me (as I sometimes feel it, walls, hard heads, whatever!) And then someone finds something I said sparks an idea. The creativity is passed from each one of us to the others, after all. Read this lovely hopeful poem, and thank you, Jennifer.

Graceful Press Poetry

in this brash laughing season no curiosity
for everything is on display and all the work
long done—you see the bloom the fruit wild
without worry for the killing cold season
far and far away spring frost forgotten
like a bad dream—so lay your head just there
in my lap sunlight washing through closed eyelids
this caress the breeze on your open throat
and if all beauty all bounty is not for you…?

Last week, one of Claudia’s snippets included the phrase “episodes of curiosity.” It stuck with me…

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