Faded Glory
The light once so bright
In the humble dandelion,
The power that amazed us
In the migrating birds,
The patterns so intriguing
In frost on the window
Are not lost forever, merely
Held in reserve,
Awaiting sweet release
From the numbing effect
Of fixed preoccupations,
From the stealthy separation
Of projected self-propulsion.
Copyright © Carol Mays | Year Posted 2015
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