Yard Sale of Thoughts

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If I didn't grab you, 
I'd be on the bottom rung. 
The ladder I've ascended
only just begun.

If I didn't follow through 
with the first electric stun,
I'd be caught in a cocoon, 
too low on fuel to face the sun. 

And if I didn't heed desire's torch,
find shelter on your lighted porch,
I'd be left for dead, vulture food,
sun-beaten and scorched.

If I didn't take you as my own
to have in faith and daily hold,
I'd be miles from my own truth
in search of fool's gold.

To let love bloom, naturally:
the mangrove of your eyes
find my gentle flow.
Time can not erode our beloved home.

At low tide, 
submerged in love,
what fragrant fields we've sown.

© 2026 | K.F. Hartless

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Artwork: Syed Azam Naqvi