Time Given
My #8 for National Poetry Month
1.
we search, sometimes
without understanding
or holding close.
It is a gift
opened by the trace of smiles.
2.
i turn
to watch the sky
bronze itself
in sun.
and you,
are gone.
3
i lay down my head
to better hear the grass grow.
its roots
shoot through my skin
piercing,
a remnant of you.
copyright/all rights reserved Audrey Howitt 2015