The hundredth day of the year
has no inherent meaning
to those inhabiting this sphere
incessantly careening
except for one small group that meets
to throw a celebration
with frosted and some frozen treats
to honor the creation
of someone they have taken in
among their growing family
while he proffers a sheepish grin
awash in the cacophony
of the close-knit clan they’ve formed
and his ripening heart is warmed.
4 comments:
Sharp & cunning. Respect.
I've added you to my affiliates.
hey thanks 7, will add you in to my links.
Your talent for observation and
understanding marry well with
your poetry writing ability.
More.
sweet =)
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