Saturday, June 10, 2017

Postcard Valentine

Let me break it to you gently
I am not dead but living
In a small house in Maine
The applause of butterflies
Speaking to the sun
On their direct line
Like listening-in
When I sit in the yard
I like to come here in October
Morning fog obscuring
What I still don’t know
About myself and us
Though I did die
I go on living

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