Upon Every Sunrise
Sitting in the corner, quietly observing
The life of the party, I scroll through
Mental images of those we’ve buried;
Memories aged, blurred by
Tears, salty with a touch of ocean
Where is the miracle?
But upon every sunrise, every
Tide drawn by the moon, every
Green shoot greeting the sky, and every
Love not forgotten,
It’s nice to write free-form after a month of prompts and themes (but I do think I’ve grown due to all the hard work and am grateful to have put in the effort).
LikeLiked by 1 person