Ideas drip down
Like serendipity from the heavens
Of what you might look like
When I finally set eyes
On a scrap of your coat
Or the cut of your jeans
Should a glimpse of the back of your head
In a crowd
Light my nerves
Make me run to catch up
To find
The ring on your finger
third from the thumb
and so
I’ll keep waiting
For drips of serendipity
‘Til I die.
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Linda G. Hill 