Walk the rails under a high blue sky. Find the sag in the leaning fence, and step--carefully--over rusted wire. Follow a peninsula of blond grasses through a lake of loam, and come, at last, to the timber's edge where gray branches trace the sky and rose hips curl near purple canes.
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Apple Scented Candle
Apple Scented Candle
Glowing in the twilight of a half-lit room, touching pale white of a spent carnation bloom, bouncing in a draft like an overtired tot, you are a searing spot, a small fire, a whiff of some sure love.
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