Joan LeBlanc

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Popular Poems
The Tulip

In November I held you in the palm of my hand -
Dry, brown, brittle - seeming lifeless.
I tucked you in the garden - carefully.
The dark time was coming.

A Ferly, Which Means Wonder

A flock of small birds
In perfect tight formation
Flashing against the sky
Like a piece of winged quicksilver

The Poets

Tentatively, with unspoken conditions,
Hesitating, assured by gentle smiling eyes,
We hold out to each other
Those pieces of the fabric of our lives


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7/27/2021 8:14:26 AM #