Dec 2020
I saw a feather lying on the snow
more incongruous
than a Picasso.
A delicate wind made its down ripple
lightly.
There was a universe in its shaft
and fluffy plume,
too powerful,
for a poem.
more incongruous
than a Picasso.
A delicate wind made its down ripple
lightly.
There was a universe in its shaft
and fluffy plume,
too powerful,
for a poem.
