Sunday, September 25, 2005

Wrapping Paper

Breathing deeply
her shoulders heaving
my mind drifts back to fritillaries-
road-side romping
chasing painted ladies
and the victorious possession of beauty.

These days, embittered
by the fleeting nature of collections-
how they tarnish and dull with time-
the urge arises
to arrest her for poetry
and for conspiring to steal my crime.

2 comments:

Saltzy said...

You plant little gems like seeds

to grow

after the snow

KGT said...

Thanks Saltzy! Nice to see you in these Snowy Cedars.