It may be when every storm ends and winds die and clouds clear and oceans are still, smooth as glass, even with the horizon. For this the earth would have to stand still. Is that even possible?
It may be when every word is hushed and anything you write or say no longer makes a difference. This would require indifference. Is that contradictory?
It may be only then that love will envelop every sense but for now it is what it is. A moon wrapped in brown paper remains a moon and love is love no matter the noise while we keep defining it.
Yes, could that be the problem, we keep defining it? I am not giving an answer but offering food for thought.
Observing the elderly couple sharing coffee I took note of their silence and wondered how long it took.
Dversepoets.com Prosery. A line from a poem embedded into prose of no more than 144 words.
Carol Ann Duffy is a Scottish Poet who was the Poet Laureate of the United Kingdom from 2009-2019 when she was succeeded by Simon Armitage.
“It is a moon wrapped in brown paper” is the line selected by Bjorn from her poem “Valentine”. Mine is exactly 144 words.