Special Delivery

Special Delivery
 
The day is talking,
wind shifting,
August on the run.
It’s ok that
time speeds up.
I know now
how to sit
inside the maelstrom
without opinion
or request.
 
If the mercurial compels me
to carry messages
of coming storms,
of hope,
take them
with a grain of salt.
I don’t have to
understand the news
I bring to know that
what happens
in the particular is yours
and not the messenger’s concern.
 
 
S. Robbins, August 26, 2020

Category: Poems, series    

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