2015-09-20 12.05.05


Grand Daughter Walk

I loom a blanket
of soft milkweed parachutes
she stitches me a suit
with wool died sumac red
and a daisy yellow tie


The Meadow Iris

The meadow, vibrant with blooms,
would not relinquish her gaze.
I met her eyes and ventured in.
Buds and petals nipped;
moss and stones too.
In my hand her Iris.


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