Thursday, June 2, 2011

The indigo flowers

The petite blue flames
that ignite my mornings
in tangerine autumn

Only paces away
from the rusted milestone
you'll find them

Indigo petals trembling
in a murmuring breeze
like day-break butterflies

I recite to them the poems
of my evening-years

And their bobbing heads
instill in me a certainty

that I keep returning
to these misty hours

As an apparition
or a curtain of rain

Or as one blue bud
longing to free itself
from its own enwrapping
sheath

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