Saturday, November 30, 2013



When I first came across the word serendipity
in a novel, I started looking for it. Non sequitur.
One of those things you can't find, by looking.
But, last day of Farmer's Market, stiff with cold
I wandered the stalls, reaching for a basket.
Dusty blueberries.
What potent of Fate made you reach
as I did, for that very collection?

There is no answer to that question.
But others, other questions, do have answers.
What would a blueberry, bitten 'mid your lips
taste like, saliva-mingled?

I know the answer to that. I know now that the Earth
from a distance is still as blue, no matter the clouds.
You broke through everything in my atmosphere
that night, when we added the whipped cream.

 Ciprianowords, Inc. 2013 --

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