A Photograph Poem by Andrea Vescovo

A Photograph



I saw love trapped within a frame,
an harmless pair of curious eyes
spread wide like birds treading the sky,
still innocent on their first flight
from South to North, from North to East,
like leaves scattered by the mist
upon a barren, dusty street.

Can I pick up these withered leaves,
and treasure them inside a box?
For I am willing to give them
the fairest stall within my house,
to make of them my household crown,
in this odd land whose name is West.

Sunday, January 25, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: love
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