Monday, October 3, 2011


I know: this image is as trite
as this poem will probably be.
It's all too easy these days
to capture a moment
with a cellphone.
But what photographer --
amateur or otherwise --
can resist the delicate tracery
of the wings, the softness
of the yellow fuzz;
the tiny nest of stars
and all those petals
cupped to drink the light?

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