*
I pick up words
as small daisies
on a spring field
careful to hold them
in small bunches
never as beautiful
as when first spotted
a memory of wonder
blushing as they close
around their meaning
covering the heart
shy of a truth near
enough for our dull spirit
to remember a note
or two
.
.
.
This poem is in the first volume of “California Notebooks”. If you wish to get your own copy click here
.
.
annamosca 
Very cool!
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And smell the essence they permanent as my words would touch your soul without ever entering it.-AKC
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hi Angela, I’m not sure I understand what you mean here, but I appreciate this as a beginning of a conversation, Anna
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Your poem just made me think of this. I sometimes get inspired after I read.
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Breathtakingly vivid and beautiful. love it
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Thank you Yomna!
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