Peekaboo
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A cotton candy pink
tints Night's ebony cloak,
as Dawn rises like smoke.
And multicolored ink;
spills into every chink
of Her gilded baroque.
Sol extracts sapphire-blue
from shades of indigo
with a teal afterglow.
And sunbeams poking through
white clouds, play peekaboo;
with shadows cast below.
Butterflies flex their wings
testing the morning air.
Fluttering everywhere,
they're as regal as Kings.
Yet they're such fragile things
whose wings easily tear.
Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2022
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