Saturday, May 24, 2014

As any other day


How the tender maple,
shading the young bird’s grave,
says nothing to the cat,
walking away.

How the mail arrives,
as any other day.

How we mean much more,
than what we say.

How lovely death,
in its way.

How lovely life,
bidding us
to play.



4 comments:

Jan said...

How lovely, dear William, these words that you say~

Hugs

William Michaelian said...

And to you, Jan, with thanks.

Bitch said...

So much in love with your words and your thoughts.

William Michaelian said...

Many thanks, Monika....