Preserves Poem by Justin Phillips
Preserves
Ah, the little gold-haired girl
with wide bucket eyes that hold the world.
There is innocence in her fingers
with everything she touches,
and purity is shaped out
in a puckered little kiss.
I wish I could vacuum-seal her up
and stick her in the freezer
to preserve the sweetness
of her three short years
when everything is new...
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
Topic(s) of this poem: innocence
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8/5/2026 2:51:31 PM # rel_20260803T153344Z_4267e77
