ID is infinity: picture credit Braňo on Unsplash

My First

There is not long
To wait
Between the lines

They come
Like rain,
Like contractions

These stirrup-stanzas
Shot
Out after

So many
Good years;
A shout

At a funeral
An Embarrassment
Of words.

You see me
First
In trembling verse

And yet
I know you
Wax and

Wane
with work
And the weather.

You may not
Always be my
First

Reader
But the writing
Will keep

Coming.

©️ Anna Murzyn Nov 2019