my tongue is spooning pumpkin soup
& warm bread
not with wrath of pandemic's
nor with skein of its affliction
but with blanket
knitted soft as sky of maple leaves
red-smocked by evening sun
threading deeper unto shadows
Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Quadrille, where the given word is Blanket. This is a 44 word post.
Thank you for hosting Merril!