Fuzzy Trail of Red Berries

Wait a year, I hear, for the wreckage to clear
Before launching another endearing career.
Wait a month at least before choosing a beast
to replace the lover who’s passion has ceased to
enchant or entice or enliven the feast.


I meant to be rigid and buttoned up tight.
I meant to go slowly and wait for the right
time to notice another or care for a night
full of brightness and lightness and fervid delight.


Let's follow the trail with our watering pail,
and we’ll see how it plays in a couple of days.

North East Ramble