Tuesday, June 20, 2017


Rusty Russell

A smell midway between oranges
and dirt. It’s easy to believe
that honey comes from earth
and wings, easy to imagine
the sun has roots, easy to remember
how firm and fragile sex is
as you hold the stems, easy to forget
how briefly they bloom
when there are so many.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.