Thursday, May 10, 2012

Ole

Ole was born on a day which
the sun chose.

Born on the cusp of shy and
very,

the cusp of sleep
and waking.

More deserving than anyone
of all good things:

fat velvet bumblebees,
onyx black nights,
the translucence of new

maple leaves in mid
daylight,

white butterfly caught
in a gaze,

as if by an eyelash;

a day which
the sun chose a day which--

inarticulate gratitude,
face against worn pillow.

3 comments:

Rachel Annette Blodgett said...

Allison you make things beautiful.

Rachel Annette Blodgett said...

Allison you make things beautiful.

A.H. said...

rachel

you make things beautiful.

so does ole, that is why i wrote this poem. :)

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