Boxed & Sorted

Sometimes You Stumble Into the Truth

Boxed & Sorted.

Seasons have a way of startling
To mimic surprise at that long predicted
Loss of context right before the storm
the sense of birds singing in the distance

Aftermath of more than was expected
To summon enthusiasm to repeat the process
Loss of an ability to smile and turn away
the sense of cattle restless in the pasture somewhere else

Ending can be the first step in beginning
To take to heart the homeless woman's advice
Loss of nothing left to lose in a tent city
the sense of designer shoes hurrying by

No where to put the box
Nothing to be sorted except the hotel bill

14 Lines

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This poem is entered in "Shadows and Light Poetry Contest"