What I Saw and Heard

by | Sep 21, 2014 | Poetry | 0 comments

Writing comes from listening,
so I’ve taken quiet steps outside
away from the loud 
to hear better.
Eyes open this time 
to see AND hear–this–
the delicate drops of fuchsia, 
ballerinas fluttering like so many
upside-down firecrackers,
fragile, full of beauty
dropping feathery tendrils
to the silent air.

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