Lift Let us heft the sky blue distractions with tongue-tied hands The miniature evening sky’s an unturned apple cart awaits this daytime’s message Wading through patient daylight, fragrance, song and leaf afternoon becomes slowly heavy the pleasure we derive the fatigue we experience the difficulty of holding these moments' interest Song who doesn’t sing in the snow the meadowlark asks John Stickney is a poet/writer originally from Cleveland, Oh, currently residing in the coastal region of Wilmington, NC.
Like the title says.