December
On the fire escape, one
stupid petunia still blooms,
purple trumpet blowing
high notes at the sky long
after the rest of the band
has packed up
and gone home.
Things are not as they are seen, nor are they otherwise
December
On the fire escape, one
stupid petunia still blooms,
purple trumpet blowing
high notes at the sky long
after the rest of the band
has packed up
and gone home.
🙂
Love it.
🙂
That’s a lovely, charming, evocative verse. Wonderful!
JB / http://www.dynamicstasis.blog