Friday, March 02, 2007



















There are white wings in my garden
holding tight until age
times their release
allows them to fly,
to capture the breeze
that will carry them far away
on a day when the sun
catches their intent
waves them on with warmed fingertips
and watches them settle
to sew,
to seed,
to grow.

1 comment:

Sailor said...

I've read this umpteen times since you posted it, and it keeps drawing me back.

I don't know what it is, but I love this one, the sun catching intent, waving them on with fingertips...

This is soo neat!

Hugs,
D