PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Her laughter in the kitchen sounded like
it had learnt the language of eucalyptus.
Then, Miss Kay asked why clouds don’t fall.

I said something about warmth and altitude,
but thought of grace instead.
This morning I read from Ecclesiastes,

then wrote half a stanza about shadows
falling inward. The kettle hissed, I answered.
Not the poem—but the Day.