hang a left when you get to the moon

she’ll show you the way
to wane,
to whim the hands of time
to darker sides.

go straight for the stars,
dot-to-dot math a path to that
horizon haze, and hold the day
loosely in pin-pricked points.

sway right at the sun
-rise,
surprise yourself with song,
and sigh.

 

..
In April we poem. And some days, we catch up. 

 

 

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