Woo the Day

Anne Bachelier, artist
(with reflection by day)

Daytripping

Woo the day.

Coat over a puddle 

morose so she may cross

the strewn morass.

Your jacket pumiced 
by day's dainty gait. 

In the morn 
she was a foal.

Fresh as you were 

brash to break her in.

Hastened to the task,

foaming at the mouth. 

Saddled, she likens to

a lady sashaying 

through streets,

avenues, boulevards. 

The sass of day
is everlasting.

She may return a token,

a horseshoe in the grass. 

~ LCMH 

Aphorismic

 

Excerpt of "Aphorismic"

When a door closes, there
was never a door. Or,

I could be wrong.

This teaser for the full poem––on view at https://theamericanscholar.org/long-ago-shortly-after/––starts at a door which will cross a threshold into Thailand (where I lived for four years).