An inadequate poem by ephemera

This is so beautiful…

A poem falls short; I’d like, instead
to draw a single line from me to you
and watch it curl into a word
so beautiful it’s still unsaid –
or press paper to the window pane
so that the day might saturate
a note that brightly warms your hands,
spills birdsong from imagined trees
and buzzes like fat bumblebees,
but I am bound by language, love; I can’t.

An inadequate poem by ephemera

Similar Posts

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *