Photo: Sydchrismom
sip of hot
breath of balmy
brush of brown
Harris tweed
against your elbow
on the Metro
a glimpse of poetry
in a book
the middle-aged woman
seated next to you
is reading a few bars
of Mozart an old
recording warm and
a little crackly in
the good way
a dog's floppy ear feels
sweetly warm
and silky when you run
it through your
fingers the merry dance
of bubbles as you
sip prickling
and sparkling glow
of blue twilight reflected
on fresh snow and you
pause breathe try
to coax them into
lingering
just a little
longer but each
moment
is a
butterfly alight
on your shoulder or
a song seldom lasting
long
enough
yet always flowing
into the next
(c) 2017, Hannah Six
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