"abirthed" poems
The pink streaks on heaven's brim, the productions of a painter in whiplash, a trail,
splash and stream of peach on a placid canvas
now aglow to an even more orange brilliance,
ripe fruit of morning bliss.
Azul akin to new day, a dashing originality,
most pure sea abirthed by aurean glow,
a masterpiece framework for the skeletal shadow of limbs
left from winter's ravages
Feb 7, 2019
Feb 7, 2019 at 12:01 PM UTC