If one blooming fruit tree
Can disclose an angel's brain
Then 15-20 springing in your yard
Must bring an archangel down
Someone who can orchestrate
How the light is bent
Along the infant branches
How the flesh is formed
Out of that heavenly fragrance
Just enough so you don't
Float away but leaves you
Dreaming in the grass
For some hours stranded
Between life and death
No comments:
Post a Comment