A Poem: Part IV of ‘The Roaming Set’

By Pixabay via Pexels

they call it nimbus
for lack of a heavier term
of a construct that belies
ordinary emotion

have we met before?

but that would beg the impossible
and nothing so self-assured

not when the cold rumbles
nimbly clever
so taken by its own mischief

not when the crisp brambles
tumble headlong upon the dirt
making shelter among the moss

and surely not
when all our memories
of brighter days

lie somewhere west
of a frost-capped horizon

dew to crystal beading
even as we speak

Poet, writer, and digital artist. Looking for the ways words catch like silver in the rain. Writer for The Creative Café, P.S. I Love You, and The Startup.

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