Druscilla(II)

Your stern hands
(pooling in black memories)
yet
tender in a garden,
of crotons…
and iguanas,
and hummingbirds
(…though plagued upon, my boyish “depravity”…),
but hidden now
in every flower. I remember you.

Advertisements

Thank you :-)

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s