Sage
1
The smell of warm sage Hangs heavily in the air.
My
mother
is
cooking white-sauce again.
Across the room,
numbly
I
sit,
Drifting in thought.
If
today brought wisdom
Will
Wise
it
linger until
is
the fool
But foolish
is
tomorrow?
who
the
sees what he is, wizened one who doesn't
Gabriel Henton
act.
