The Touch of the World



Seamlessly melting onto

The cool of day      


                                     In me

Someone is telling me

      They didn’t mean to,

       But they did.

Someone is telling me

      What I should do, but

I can’t

       I can’t say anything–

       They have blocked me.

A locked apology

   Is none at all.

A heart opens just a little

     And then thanks me with

       With the smell of flowers on it

            Lingering and weaving through the day.

                Touching the place of no apology.

Reflection:  In the evening, looking into the pool of day, swirling like an eddy, I see the sorrow and joys of the world and not just me.


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