Weeping Willows
WEEPING WILLOWS
love
is like
garden ash
a bee that stings,
bruised-blue’s door fraught with
August’s pale lip nettles.
weeping willows await fate
stirring against the wall’s faint swoons
of twilight, the moon wrapped in eclipse of
the heart, outcome a hard mystery.
7/25/2017
Copyright © Kim Rodrigues | Year Posted 2017
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