poem-thoughts

Monday, January 14, 2013

january fourteenth time

in springtime, all of the poinsettias
slouch down and shed their red coats
and pinch little pieces of sky out
with their petals, like stars do

(the tired housewives ready
for lilies, daffodils, tulips)

and winter is over and they
are its sinew, slack, left to wilt
Posted by ChristinaBeasley at 9:53 PM

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