Scattering

I wake too late to see the morning glories.

I must face the dandelions,

I don’t mind.

They insist on scattering hope.

Dashing through the day,

the rays of light through the prism,

are too bright for poems.

Night skies draw closer,

scattering sparkle’s.

I’m immersed in the

night blooming jasmine’s

romance novel, and

finally, my nocturnal eyes,

continue scattering poems.

 

Photo by – thr3-eyes-unsplash

For Imaginary Gardens with Real Toads
Sanaa’s Challenge