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Getting lost is not a waste of time

A spate ~ free verse

A spate of children
all shapes and tempers
pile up in her arms
every possible winter

Sunlight carries
smell of fresh bread
knocks on doors of dreams
and wakes little heads

Noise spreads on the table
like butter on hot toast
She dots love on foreheads
and is always loved the most

Mindfills for DVerse Poets Pub ~ grandmothers hosted by Sarah


8 responses to “A spate ~ free verse”

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