Littered Floors
My #28 for National Poetry Month
we move toward happiness
without knowing it.
hands touching
the laundry of our lives
folding away visions
protecting dreams,
gazing out toward the sky.
i can feel the tenderness of you
in the morning coffee mug
held between greedy fists.
the lines of our lives
intersecting in patterns
that make leaves dance on the floor
in late afternoons
cascading in patterns around us,
like dandelion seeds
blowing across the lawn
each destined to implant its own joy
among the grasses.
sometimes when you whisper my name
across the dreams
i have pinned up to dry
i can feel the tug of you
deep inside me
in that place
where the soul lodges i think.
and then i know
that when you came to me
i had crushed my lottery ticket
so much the richer.
copyright/all rights reserved Audrey Howitt 20115