Verlie Burroughs is a west coast writer from Vancouver Island.
A Little Light at Dawn
This is how we carry on
moving quietly from room to room
A table materializes,
and soon everything is in its place
The empty cup, the pen,
I suppose the rose will bloom again in June.
That summer flowering will resume
Madly going to seed, dandelion will still intrude.
I suppose we will watch the interlude
Pining we are not free.
Caught in a bind, weed
Like a rope, around
our strangled hope.
© 2021 Verlie Burroughs