Friday, September 2, 2016

I have a thought that has not become a poem-

I have a thought that has not become a poem-very rare that happens.
I see a bird circling above a beautiful woman-apreyciation ;);)
A rogue feather falls and tumbles around in the breeze- only to come to rest upon her knee. Then begins the glorious journey sliding all the way down her leg and coming to rest delicately upon the beautifully painted petal on the end of her toe.