Thursday, September 13, 2007

ode to bloomers

Some bloom early. They
know, like all sentient beings, the
anxious awaits of beating hearts after the
brown months. Their
gifts are innocence and perfume and a small immutable

Some bloom late. They
know how to wait for the
gray to align with the
restless breathing of tired lungs. Their
gifts are memory and no regrets and there’s still

No comments: