Saturday, April 26, 2025

Roses & baby's breath


Roses like paper poems and baby's breath like tiny suspended snowdrops.  Has dying ever been more tranquil, more beautiful.  All held by time.  


1 comment:

  1. from Six Shots of the New World Order

    A shaft of light
    on the ancient spire
    before it's blown to bits

    Scorecard there in the darkened room'
    Two shawls, one ripped
    Flour blazing centrifugals
    Beside the battered stove--
    Her doll
    His truck
    The bells

    Beast in the heat of a warren
    Buzzards in the walkway, awake and free

    So many runnings and runnings
    Little scarves flying
    Pine needles on fire
    Wild leaves blazing
    The old ways dying in the snow

    Dust in the freezing air
    The square where we used to meet
    Where are you now
    My sweet young love?


    from Particle Theory,
    for the people of Ukraine

    SG, 4.27.25, SF, CA

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