In Plain Sight

Part of the story
is usually a lie
but to tell the whole
truth is impossible
stuck in the role
of hiding the mystical
in plain sight.

Caught in the morning
standing high above
the shoes I stole when
I needed to leave
hungry and cold
fleeing the mystery
in plain sight.

True love and I
lying in the bed
long after waking
covers all spread
from arm to leg
from toe to head
in plain sight.

What she said to me
my wisp of a hill
my heart of a meadow
was, Do not kill
my lovely shadow
with your damn light
before it’s fulfilled.


About mrsorenson

NOT my president
This entry was posted in love, poem, poetry and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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