Summer Of The Unlocked Door Poem by James McLain

James McLain

James McLain

From Tampa Florida And Still Living Near By

Summer Of The Unlocked Door



It is raised up from the dust this earth of the silver maker,
her for me it was higher than the arm could and yet
infused as the rose I scented, starry nights stretch out.
O dresses flowing silver, towards me, therein you reach
and it faces to each of us.
There is the petaled flower of which,
and you open freely as the sun without obstacle.
May the white leaf, the flower did not run off nor divide the silver
from that kind of rare silver; O it is white, it does become you,
your cluster, thickly with the veined branch,
summer of the unlocked door
and it has the fruit which it matures, do.

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James McLain

James McLain

From Tampa Florida And Still Living Near By
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