Hidden Heart

7 May 2023

An aching body at 4:00, trying to recover from penetrating days of work: cold, damp, indecisive.

So much needs to still be done.

A random bouquet from Monday, gesturing a gift from warm wishes: allergies, uncontrollable, debilitating.

So little it takes to give a smile.

A seven-day passing, blooms fresh and alive, most feeling their distinction: absorbed, basking, exaltation.

So rarely are reasons refined.

You whisper through a small glass of Dolcetto from your hills, Le Langhe, as I drift in this silence.

So prescient confide cues undetected, unseen…time and again.