Sometimes the way things are is so painful,

life knots, like angry, tangled hair and refuses

to be pulled free, to release in that flowing

which makes so much possible and which

can be arranged as beautifully as imagining

would ever allow, in that neat, harmonic,

settling into time where all is in order and

grace can shine, coiffed, coiled, held in

place, and secure in its own settled peace.

About rosross

Editor, writer, poet.
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