Friday, 13 July 2012


That fire has been burning for a long, long stint
and one blue ball twists and turns akimbo
delighting water, up and up, to air

and a whiter flower bursts into gold
and a tiny creature sucks at liquor
and that tiny creature’s gobbled by a flying bird

landing in a treetop, hammering a song
for Spring, for Spring, carousaling Spring.

1 comment:

  1. Vincent, i have noticed you a lot on twitter and have been to your blog before.
    I'm wondering if you would like to join other authors on my new poetry site.