Her broken places are poised
and ready. Give her a scattered
shower sky, a frozen why worth
thawing. Hold her out, seaglass
tumbled, wave-rumbled, to a
dappled breeze. Filter her some
-thing she can catch, know,
grow into something greater
than all this weathered skin.
Catching up. since I was en-Gulfed in sea for a week or so after the holiday, I missed some posts over at PA. And since today’s prompt isn’t up yet, I’m playing catch up.