Monday, November 9, 2009

Life With(out) Poetry

Without

Grass is green.
Dew is wet.


The sky is blue.
The sun sets.


She smiles.
The rose opens.
With

The dew-drop-covered slivers
of emerald green shimmer
in the light.

Blue and white transform into
pinks and purples, as the
sun sinks low.

The slow-unfolding petals
of the rose coax from
her a smile.

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