For All We Know

Stories, stories everywhere. Especially here.





Everything catches my eye:

spent blossoms of blue plumbago
in a small tidy heap vivid
beneath grass-green leaves
and its whip-like stems

a man, stopped mid-stride
on a sidewalk, debating with air
the time and its demons, ragged
clothing aflap on his livewire frame

Nostalgic for this life I am living
every day and moments within it
are in high relief. I catalog it and myself
standing in two – narrator and doer.

It all leaves a taste faint in mouth
of sweet almond, the darkest cherry
and for all we know
a melody almost lost in air.


Curious to see more of my writing?  Visit me – Brenda Joyce Patterson – on Facebook, Twitter, and my website.

Want to be in a poem?  Send me an email with the subject line “Poetry Star”and tell me what you want your poem to be about for a chance at free writing swag.

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