Mourning
Morning calls like times of prayer
The billowy fog hugging a reticent horizon
Insistent on remaining unsheathed
What abominations preceded this calm
What sins might have been abetted
By last night's duplicitous bed of stars
Live not in the past, we are told
Savor the present
Allow your future to unfold
Alas, a thousand scars and would-be starlets
Threaded within this guile cloth of dawn
Their present and future —already forgone
Photo by Alina de Albergaria
Santa Barbara, 2021
pennedbyalina ©2021