L'aura del Campo

Thimbleful (Dew Drop #13) [31]

Thimbleful

She calls
to hear his voice
two thousand smiles away
beyond time zones, moonscapes, mountains; yet,
with whom to share her joy?
No one.

She speaks
rapidly pours
two gallons of sweet lies,
a droplet of pent up grief, ten spoons of honey
into a cup
for one.

She drinks,
inhales his words,
vows to always hold on to his laughter,
remembers when hanging up
to cap her thimble
of joy.

© Kåre Enga [174.31] (13.abril.2017)

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