Friday, December 21, 2012

Sentimental Journey Home for Christmas

Black Butterfly 

Grace slick with midnight oil, 
Tempered blue in glimpses on wings 
Broad as maple leaves... 

Against the pure anise in bloom, 
You still a pose of negative space, 
No trace of butter, more as resin 
Condensed mystic suspense, 

Exception to the rule of color, 
Are you all in greedy shadow, reflecting none? 

Or consummate lover of beauty, 
Embracing the prism's rainbow as one? 

Or simply paradox of nature, 
Brooding black alacrity 
In flight... 

Absorbing sun, yet shedding weight 
As you take the sky, your claim 
As true as Monarch's--who 
Only flirts with your depth of wing--
You, transcendent changeling... 


My Christmas Gift to You... 
Is this poem and quirky elf photo, one from a decade ago, one half a decade. Hug your family's children for the holidays. They grow up so fast!
My ginger (#3 on the right below) is 17 now...

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