Saturday, June 21, 2008

When did I write this?

champagne frost on a window sill
building heavy with the weight
of fond memories

blackbird lost against a night sky
amongst the pitch of absence
ignorantly soaring

grandmother's fragile hands
the sweetest raspberries
sure and trembling

summer hail pounding hard
trapped in a shelter
mostly alone

still lake of untouched waters
poetry etched in liquid
by a solitary duck


the blackbird lost against a night sky
still soars as if it is free
how foolish and naïve
the blackbird is

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