Sunday, March 29, 2026

Sunday sun

my vision rests

in the bare arms

reaching out into

the blue of the sky

a phantom taps

on my right wrist

as I hold it behind

my reclined head

in the intensity of

passionate sunrays

my flesh whispers

prayers to summon

the slightest breeze

a sweet invocation

falling in the drips

of glistening sweat

to ask the cool to

dance with the heat

while March teeters

in April's advance


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