Monday, July 13, 2015

Air of Acquiescence


Their slender stalks fastened 
With twine to thin reeds stuck 
In a brown, earthenware pot, 

The blood-red carnations nod 
In accord with each blustering gust, 
All the while suffusing the air 

They breathe 
With redolent dyes 
Of thick, heady musk. 





2 comments:

  1. Intoxicating. Melancholy. Sorrowful. Exhausted. Resigned. Greece... may be broke, but still has poetry.

    Like love... What money can't buy.

    ReplyDelete
  2. "We need as many incorruptible friends as possible--especially in these dire times where the world's bankers are banking on us to swallow their line."

    --Huukleyeand Cinquor

    ReplyDelete

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