Another offering from “Dark Road”, my 1st collection of poetry.  Here’s to detours, being lost, discoveries and trusting your own voice wherever the journey and the pen leads.

Ordinary

Waiting for the ordinary

on a Tuesday in May, barely

warm enough for the cotton dress

blue striped, clings to her swelling breasts;

the world passes aquamarine eyes

and in that moment, she decides

stirs her tea, sips in contentment

perfume of lilacs is sweetest

as you turn from Oak onto Main

every breath is never the same.