VERSE • when she comes • 2004.11.7
Six petunia blankets


Laughing little children having fun,
running wild circles in the sun.

They lay and laugh down daisy lanes,
just skipping through a bee loud glade.

Their wind, hair,
blowing there;
singing free without a care.

Not a one to hide from,
not a place to run.

Beginning, thinning, spinning,
into one.