Clover

A clover in a field,
is not a clever cup
able to hold all
the rain

it dreams, undoing the leaves
holding them in hand

like a feather has no weight but leans upon its own stem

feeling only the sun above says, I am the sun’s light.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s