Perhaps on a Monday

Remember what it is
to wrap your only shoulders
in a soft blanket

and to sit outside
beneath the living moonlight
where everything,

everything is music,
where the shiver
of aspen leaves

from across the arroyo seco
will serenade you
for more than a minute,

less than ten,
and where the whiteness
of the solitary

moon reminds you again
why you will keep stepping,
and stepping,

and stepping through
the doorway and out into
the attainable night.


3 thoughts on “Perhaps on a Monday

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