There is a satisfaction
in crossing “i”s and dotting “t”s,
Not like the rush of flight,
not like the sweet epiphanies
that bounce, exultant, on my inner walls . . .
It’s a prosaic peace,
but worthy, nonetheless,
A nourishment that’s good in moderation,
A staider note to give a base for spices
and ground the fledgling efforts of creation.
©Wendy Mulhern
December 13, 2013
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