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Poetry is just the evidence of life. If your life is burning well, poetry is just the ash. Leonard Cohen

Saturday, February 2, 2013

Cinquains For a Saturday



Change or Die
Hanging
On the door frame
Opaque chrysalis clings
Butterfly inside its tight skin
Black, dead

source
 In the Bush
Robins
Eating berries
Holly bushes rustle
Squawks and feathers fill the chill air
Dog barks