ivygrave

Thinking of

Emily Dickinson’s

moss covered lips

 

I stood by

a grave today,

an ivy shrouded

identity

and confess it was

my own hand

moved one leaf

to reveal

one letter of a name –

 

T for truth

and beauty nearby …

 

This is how a poem

grows,

insinuating life

back and forth

between the roots

and the leaves

of an idea,

not giving up

or letting go

until somebody calls

its name.

letter T

Advertisements