poetrybyheart.me

Sometimes everything has to be enscribed across the heavens so you can find the one line already written inside you. Sometimes it takes a great sky to find that small, bright, and indescribable wedge of freedom in your own heart. David Whyte

Food For the Soul

Sun shining brightly
Through grocery store window
Trombone’s golden sounds
Matching the brilliance
Dixie Land jazz
Sent my feet toe-tapping.
I reached in my billfold
Made a gift to the hungry

Nearby Girl Scouts selling their cookies
And fond memories of delicious Thin Mints
Picked up on the trombone
Got into the groove
Formed a dazzling chorus line
All on a usual Saturday morning.
Broadway at the grocery store
Who would have imagined.

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