A Butterfly At Noon
J
James McLain
0
Altın Yaprak
Like her I came and left to soon
bent and frail of wing.
I tasted what I thought it was
sweet nectar before noon.
Inside a picture book I read
from whence it said they'd come.
Reposed in all there splendid grace
harmonic in their view.
Pictures move as time stands still
a lepidoptery.
Time moves often pictures caught
each movement of soft wings.
Bu şiiri puanla
Henüz puan verilmemiş