Lifted
lifted
my words just barely dried
a poem appears in Spring
draws breath from a widow
close at hand, open to new
worlds across the land.
gently are these bon mot
teased into the silken air
escape capture on white
sheets fly to the magnolia
in full bloom. birdlike they preen,
cavort as do all new things in Spring.
Copyright © Patricia Cresswell | Year Posted 2017
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