It’s that time of the season
Nodding Praise Our Annual Phase
By Tyler Lucas Mobley
Variable, that patch across the way,
by and large the same day to day,
ever sly trends reflect the mood of a
given day. Coaxing light helps heaps
grow, come winter fresh snow, puddles
tell of weeks long rain, the birds sing
their song round the edge so, you’d
wonder if the world hadn’t left us alone,
a note on the table, I’ll be back in a couple
of weeks. A call dropped? No I’m still here,
just let this moment be. The birds sang again
today, and the world let this moment be.
Letters of Measure 