What splintered the limb
from the tree, rent
the watercolor-tinted
blooms from their base?
The bird that perches there now
will not say, though its call makes
a bright edge of noise: little rip
of paper sailing through the leaves.
[LAG-signature date=”06 20 2011″ url=”http://morningporch.com/2011/06/20″]
Perfect.
“For nothing can be sole or whole / That has not been rent.”
Turn the page. This poem is lovely.
:-) What they said.
yes. for some reason it makes me think of a magnolia =)