Kurt Philip Behm

A Last Dance (+1)

How looks my love at dawn

in Spring

the air a festive vase

of hope

to lord each sprout of truth

with praise

and sing what only birds

announce

 

Her steps become a

garden path

her breath a fragrance

o’er the hills

to dance with future,

present, past

and spin each partner

—time undone

 

(Dreamsleep: October, 2021)

 

 

 

Leading The Blind

 

Charted lanes of custom,

 complacency alights

familiarity trumping all

—mindless in the night

 

(Dreamsleep: October, 2021)