I noticed so delicate a rare blue poem,
Through glass light shadows sang
Dulcet flutter, anthem unbroken
Still solemn winter, softened.
"Dear pray, poem," I brushed in whisper
Bent toward her radiant gravity,
"Renew me kind like airy jasper."
Polished tomb and unearthed wings.
Patient grace that I may slowly, lifting gently,
Cradle her million calling seasons
Then lay her sweet to fresh paper nest--
Awaiting her hymns of spring.
No comments:
Post a Comment