________________
like errant butterflies
wafting on an idle breeze
words
with their fragile wings
try so hard
yet don’t get far
________________
pulling a poem
like a magician does
a coin from behind one’s ear
I tug at mine wondering
whether it was really
in my head
all along
________________
I like the crevices
between words
You can fit so much
of me in them
________________
This is a nod to secularity
that never wins
This other a simple bruise
from those without words
And this a toast to the idealism
of dead symbolists
All marked black
only to fade
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