Wednesday, October 21, 2015

Wounded Valentine

A few of the old
subjects of poetry
stop by for a drink
and then a wounded
monarch butterfly
maybe only a hundred
miles to go to Mexico
but now for a pause
to sip from the blue
last flowers of the Chaste
tree in my yard
my spyglass reveals
a long tear in one wing
like the look in the eyes
of a friend you sense
will be dead in a week

No comments: