Saturday, May 7, 2016

Love is in no Diamond


Diamonds

Don’t buy diamonds for me, my love
Nor plastic that lasts though the earth tries to absorb

Love is a handful of wildflowers—coneflower, daisy, poppy too.
Plucked in my hand they wither, need reminding, renewal

Love is a watercolor on parchment—dissolving and bled if thrown out in the storm.

Love is a garden, in need of watering, weeding, sun's warm.

Love for one day cannot stand alone.

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