Poetry

Sunny Smiles

Buttermilk-stained plates

poke up from the fray

of earthy closeness.

They greet the day,

even if you don’t want to,

and when you do, they’ll be waiting

to gift you with smiles.

 

When the colour fades as the skies turn,

and the flesh huddles down

to protect itself from the oncoming

chill kisses,

you know that their solid will

is a promise

of their return.

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