Tuesday, November 27, 2018

Still Time Valentine

I found a grub in the house
Who was more startled
When I picked it up
 
Velvety soft and placed it
On a paper napkin
Curled like a fetus
 
Out we went to find
Where it could possibly have come from
Which twig it might hang from yet
 
If there was still time
To weave around itself
Some transforming night
 
A leaf or a cloud
O take me with you
Pale filaments of flight

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