What do you do when the spigot runs dry?
I mean, besides sit down and cry?
If there’s no more, is there something?
Listen, touch, smell, taste and oh yes,
The clouds are always making faces,
aren’t they? The world is going on
about you without you. You don’t have to do it
Let the birdsong lift you, the trees bring you
shade. Be soothed in life’s great cocoon
and just be.
A poem for Dverse