Wednesday, April 23, 2008

There are no wild flowers

A poem written today:

There are no wild flowers, just undiscovered -
Waiting to be tread around by the soft steps
Of adventurers:
Botanists with a lust for the lost ones
And hats to keep the sun from their eyes,
Still allow you to bathe in it.
These are I, your suitors.
And I, I would take you with me if you would not die.

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