Micropoetry 6-2-2020

melted over
as one color blends
with another
and all division seems
without a purpose

free at last
in the public domain
where sun begins to shine
on those forgotten

in that way it moves
smooth and deadly
beneath the growth
of springtime leaves

all at once
a dance of red
until we sit
quiet in a night’s

he stares at the cup
to ponder an invitation
from a world away


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