Tuesday, March 22, 2011

A migratory bird, you flew
down south, a river
you changed your course
a butterfly, you hunted out
blossoming flowers
I search for you in vain
in the barren emptiness of my present.
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1 comment:

S said...

Well, it would be a sin to imprison a migratory bird. Or to catch a butterfly. All for your own selfish reasons :)

April 28, 2011 at 10:51 PM

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