Evensong
silent choir
notes of green
citrus
fire.
Tag Archives: citrus
The muse in the zinnias
Zinnia babies!
Little Ys
for YAY, I LIVE!
SHOW ME SKY!
Leafy cloud birthing
a bud — a thought —
green nascent inkling,
memory-wrought.
Then topaz and garnets,
ruffles of gold,
breeze-floated finery,
gemmed butterfly road.
Ripples of citrus,
dollops of cream,
bees imbibe wantonly,
stripes popping at seams.
Asteraceously proud
but democrat still,
comfy with beeblossom,
bedbug and dill.
A bowl full of summer!
A head full of words —
which will stretch up
and burst sun-towards?
Zinnias are symbol
of dear, absent friends —
some, fellow writers.
And this is the end.
