Summer Poem by Jordy lustig
Summer
When the happy soar,
Hears the faint cackle of young girls in a pretty chant.
Which suckle, falling in the hair of roses crusted with bees.
And their knees bleed out the wet feet of the butterfly's,
who chase all the droplets off the damp grass,
in the hour of summer heaves.
Saturday, December 20, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: Seasons
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4/23/2024 10:14:10 AM # 1.0.0.1119
