Monday, September 16, 2013

Still the Ruffled Wing (Poem 167)

still the ruffled wing
silk scarf of wind slips
through itself   unknotting
let gray the fallen sycamore
let loose the black-bright bursts 
of vines that advertise 
their own demise   honey sweet 
the sun's haze strung 
like fairy lights with midge and gnat
suspended in a shaft    and settle 
the butterfly leaves.

(c) 2013, by Hannah Six

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