Without agenda, another cold day slips by,
in food and sleep and little chores, in tussling
the boy to the floor. The house moves in sighs,
a tiny capsule on a small planet in a strange time.
The year moves in an endless round ring.
Photo by Paweł Czerwiński on Unsplash
arched feet, and walk in joy,
held by whomever you choose
to love you.
Photo by Derek Thomson on Unsplash
the thick pink sleeve
of the terrycloth robe,
wanting the same comfort my mom
Photo by Jordan Whitt on Unsplash