Thursday, May 27, 2010

Spring. And you. And me.

The leaves I like best

are spring-green and waxy-
thin as tissue paper decoupaged
with white glue, hung
in a sunny window
to dry.

Or else like kiwi cut
in half, star-fruit sliced,
the cheery yellow tips
bejeweled fingers waggling
toward a pale sun;
an open palm, veins threaded
through.

Like you. Shaken.
Stirred. Preserved:
they waver on their
stems in a gust
of wind before
falling with the rain
to stick to my window, the
underbellies of
starfish encased under
their plane of
glass.










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