A grassland
to black ink
in a wintery poem
on a twenty-four
pound white page
streaked with a single
blond strand
pressed into
the cellulose,
each fiber
part of a collection
of interlocking snowflakes
that never melt
under strong sunlight
that fades and peels
the varnish and finish
of a wooden table
on a porch
empty of people,
but with an expectation
of attendance
once deck shoes
are spotted
under the glider.

copyright © 2020 Kenneth P. Gurney

3 thoughts on “Graze

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