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Elizabeth Mayo
Poems
May 2013
primavera
The cicadas are singing hymns, my dear,
the wind is lifting your hair like a wing
of some bright-flowing canary
and the juniper, bluebells, the ivy and moss,
ma fifille, ma mie, ma minette, ma poupΓ©e,
fleur Γ©ternelle de printemps, ma mie, ma mie,
in their first sweet spasms of spring
can hardly compare to fluttering fall
of your slip as it ghosts past my knee.
Written by
Elizabeth Mayo
Tampa, FL
(Tampa, FL)
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