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sandra wyllie
Poems
May 4
What I Thought
gold was rust the day
this turned to dust. All
the bouncing dots
flatlined. Swans in the lake
turn swine. When did
the sunflowers drop their
heads? Their bright yellow
petals shed like cat hair
on the stripe upholstered
chair. When did the cornflower
sky sigh with the wind and turn
charcoal? How did the moon
break into pieces when once
whole? The sun's rays douses
its light? What cut the string
of the high-flying kite? Why
July, did you turn frost? Blades
in the yard from standing
now moss. The diamond ring
is glass. Inside of it, many cracks.
Written by
sandra wyllie
56/F
(56/F)
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