9.12.2016

On the Harlyquin Glorybower (in Autumn)

dark wings land
on the gnarled branch
of a half-dead tree
proprietary

i admire the way
his black gloss
is stippled by white
artistic

i imagine paint
flicked from the tip
of a flexing brush
careless

a new arrival
interrupts my thoughts
wings invisible
zephyric

quick brown kisses
for the bright pink buds
zipping in and out
earnest

i watch her flit
torn between delight
and sympathy
rueful

she'll find no nourishment there
they're seed pods
dressed up in sister's petals
masquerading

alone once more
my freckled friend hops
from one branch to the next
curious

his hauteur
shrugged off in an instant
turned to fluff
content

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