Clear as Night

In an ugly little room
By the side of the sea
The Sun still slow rises
For all, for you and for me.
With no gods, monsters, or ghosts;
We poor few make our own way
Thru the sadness of clashing agenda;
We’ve little room to have our say.
Yet so majestic the Sun claims honor-
Brooks no question, no how nor any why;
But once every twenty-eight days comes Luna
With the Full Moon to rule the sky.
All simple full answers do clever hide
To yield to the curious at the Hobnob.
Less surprised, we find, are all of us:
Of course you’re the one for the job!

About Kitt

Sometimes a rhyme or couplet wanders across my consciousness. So, I share it. Other times I'm a hospice social worker; others, a Dad; others, southerner, New Orleanian, cajun enthusiast, voter, and on better days, a not-too-awful-poet/rhymster. Welcome to my page. Enjoy.

Posted on January 16, 2022, in Poem and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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