Dawning time

For fear or awe of dawning time,

for glimpse of life in song or rhyme,

I can but trust returning bliss

and banish fears that would resist.

For in the end laughter and tears

are closer friends than they appear,

and we who judge one more or less

are lost in thought who might be blessed.




Now that your vagina
has returned to its rightful place
as a subroutine of your self-awareness,

And my penis has gained the humility.
Imposed by the hairs growing white around it,

Perhaps we finally
know something of love.

Photo – Ruby ribbons:Growing old