Friday, July 22, 2016


You, my nymph,
gestating gestures
'til you burst to life,
brief life, or, so it seems,
so fierce and present
there is no thought of
a past, there is no doubt
in which direction you fly,
only marvel, even as
you rest, still bursting
inside, on a leaf, 'til the
next moment takes you
like the wind, into the
rest of your life.


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