Brush
Brush sweeps across sand and path
redirecting nature’s desire
into a more orderly place
one that is safe
far from the chaos of the wind
What do you hope to achieve
and will it bring peace?
Thoughts
My head is elsewhere yet a poem must be written. There is a sound of music in the air and a brush sweeping in the garden. It’s all very mellow.
© John Monaghan 2026. All Rights Reserved
