Pink Diamonds
Tulip tree, awaiting the suns golden nod
hovering angels dressed in light pink
above the warming nest of Aprils pod.
If this is the last thing I should ever see
beneath the cold earth I'll be smiling.
Much too soon they'll shed downy wings.
plummet softly into the emerald breeze.
A pink brooch upon the breast of memory.
Copyright © Anthony Biaanco | Year Posted 2019
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