A Cargo of Green Hearts
~POEMS~
listen, winter: go home. the crows have long surrendered the dark sled of Autumn
they killed everything with. already they are turning into bluejays. death has another face, another way of kissing that is beginning to taste like strawberry I am thinking of old loves, and how tulips remind me it’s never too early. I would lie down on this snow and melt it and die doing so if it would help. for just one blossom could be everything it’s like in the old fairytales before they were saccharined by cowards: something must perish willingly so that something else can live the ice knows nothing of this until it becomes water. a face is nothing nothing until softened with grief. see here, there is no expert on the sun wiser than the heart. everything I am now I give up rashly as heat Comments are closed.
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Poetry LogPoems are posted here when I'm ready to share them. I often don't title my poems. The date you see above the poem may be the date it was posted here and not necessarily the date it was created. To see more, click on the Archives below. Archives
January 2020
CategoriesUnless otherwise noted, all content ©Paul-William Gagnon, Creative Commons Attribution-Non Commercial-NoDerivs license.
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