Worms coil together in the morning dew
Alas,The swooping crow.
Her hair brushed my face,
beneath the late summer sky,
As she falls into my arms.
I watched the moon,
And wondered,
Who else watches it?
The morning comes,
Bringing its dew,
Who can see this connection?
Tucked in a field,
Under an early mist,
A snail hangs under a blade of grass.
Sipping my morning coffee,
A worm struggles to move,
The sun is coming.
Out the window,
I catch a frog,
sitting quietly on a lilly.
Above me sits a tom cat,
His eyes following me,
under the moonlight.
Cleaning out the attic,
Her stale perfume still lingers,
On my late wife's nighty
Two doves fly and nest together,
The crack of thunder,
And one is gone.
Above the clouds,
Sits something,
Totally incomprehensible.
A man sits for fifty years,
And reaches,
The same conclusions.
© 2011 Roberto Nacci All Rights Reserved
