Plum and cedar shake out their pollen clouds,
the bending willow wears her
silver-green cat-toes--
Pollen is a plant's love sonnet circling
in the air.
Even if you can't love me
like a bee loves the deep blossom, still,
I love you like flying pollen:
Widely. Honestly.
No apologies.
J. Pratt-Walter (c) 2014
No comments:
Post a Comment