Search Suzanne Crone
Posted in Poetry
What if the thief is nothing,
But a vicious poetry dealer,
Hucking his loot from the back of his van,
Lost her with a deft button-hook around an
Outlier bin full of acorn squash
a casual horse would waken from a loose-lipped nap, and breath its satin breathe along the back of my neck.
Forget theft. Failure to inspire is the greatest crime.
Let the beauty we love be what we do. There are hundreds of ways to kneel and kiss the ground.” ~Rumi
Keep the door open in case a lion is wandering by.
The bear, just out of hibernation, walks across the empty six-lane highway and grabs a box of Fruit Loops...
"You know sometimes, this game…it’s like it is so easy. Like I am being setup to win.”
Let your shoulders drop as your loneliness blooms into the deepest connection of all things;
A late summer's evening ride taken late because of the heat, tucked in the pocket of time between day and night.