As My Father Dreams in Circles

smooth gray sky hovers
intent on rain
somewhere else

the warm breath
of the day
a faint, steady stirring

no shadows
fall from houses
or trees

nothing
builds
but the sameness

yet this poem
forms, moves
flows in rivulets

satisfies
a longing
for resolution

the sky
relents
and weeps

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3 thoughts on “As My Father Dreams in Circles

  1. Pathos hangs on the word “relents” – the longing for movement. You have caught the tension between trapped sameness & a longing for that “flowing” & those creative “rivulets” . The simplicity of form & word is deceptive: leading to an underscoring of the presence of pain. One to savour Matt. Carmel

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