On the divide
the corn lilies
yellow as if
it were autumn,
their leaves
brittling too soon,
like lovers
surprised during
the honeymoon
to find there is
just not enough
to keep things
alive. Such a short
time ago
they believed
just a smile
could open
the whole sky.
How I long
to be wrong
about them.
It takes a poet to find love in a pasture! wonderful!
oops….that comment was supposed to be about another poem.”….hear it…”
got it, i know just where it belongs! And i happen to live by a pasture, very easy to find love there!