Richard Chandler Tavenner
After a brief rain,
The dimpled dust of the path-
taking the first steps.
What is this wreath of words
hung round my head that should
so completely keep me listening
for the first words heard
Never I know if it’s a noose
for my body, or a halo for my soul,
This writing with these words
what may have been written before.
Listen:
During the first rain,
After many months of none,
The stones by the path
Where we walk each day, my love,
Undress in all their colors.
Accolades