The Shroud

01 May 2021

https://poems.culturing.net/2021/05/the-shroud/

What is this
thin whisp,

this blow of steam,
this flop of paper

streaming by you,

is it all of us?

I think it is
the unmixed soup of dreams,

the shroud of temples
not yet built.

Tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow
begins again, as always,

but be better for it.