Day Eleven: #WoPoWriMo - Holes

   

Holes in today, no holes in tomorrow;

a gentle belonging

like summer’s black swallows, that dips

and dives

into the depths of souls,

swoops and tumbles,

claims and owns, a heart,

and a time, all at once.

Tomorrow’s wonder,

is not yet begun, though there borders

true feeling,

and devotions, in this touch,

and to want

and to be

is often too much like a ribbon

that ties and holds.

Not this time,

just a moment,

that bends and

folds, amongst the steps of a

long-trodden quest, following footprints;

through sand;

on a rocky shore ,

to the shell-arms of happiness.