Her Paper Boat Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Her Paper Boat



A muse—I mean a
Poisonous butterfly, like a
Pick pocket who
Purloined my heart
That now lies wet and
Heavy
Enfolded in the butcher's
Papers
That makes up her paper boat.

Tuesday, April 17, 2012
Topic(s) of this poem: butterfly
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Robert Rorabeck

Robert Rorabeck

Berrien Springs
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