Vermilion

knapsack on her shoulder
sticking her eyelashes on a steamy window
she’s writing for me her first letter
on corrugated paper
ink melts like a butterfly wing
in a schoolgirl insectarium

on her small wristwatch
early summer hours shine
she swings on a white plank
tied with rope to the old walnut
holding in her dotted skirt
a plastic ball and wax cherries
blonde or reddish corn stalk dolls
meticulously sharpened pencils
tempera with too much vermilion

an empty chair faces the mirror
the rain is typing its story
brown butterflies grow on the ceiling
gray clouds are floating farther
like soap balloons

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Categories: My Poems in 2010 | Tags: , , , , , , | Leave a comment

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