I tilt recklessly
through the day, buffered by your
tender forgivings.
A vague notion sifts through:
would this be called providence?
I tilt recklessly
through the day, buffered by your
tender forgivings.
A vague notion sifts through:
would this be called providence?
Poems from in between 
2 responses to “A notion”
A potent notion.
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Wish I has a witty reply. This poem feels so Dickinson to me — should have put a bee in it. Thanks for reading my poems!
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