Stewing Nostalgic

We devour old times –
two clouded,
cat and dog –
fishing sacred out of
vast champagne night.

I may linger,
eat air,
an ocean –
that delicious thing –
fool to heal
this moist open throb
& it must work.

(My Friday muse is online magnetic poetry.)

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Permission to write, paint, and imagine are the gifts I gave myself when chronic illness hit - a fair exchange: being for doing. Relevance is an attitude. Humour essential.

9 thoughts on “Stewing Nostalgic

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