The evening is settling in,
the breeze warm on our skin.
I watch her- long legs,
blonde hair, little colt-
as she catches fireflies.
I hold out the jar when
she runs to me, hands
cupped. We put her capture
in the jar and hold it
to the night, wondering
how many more for a lamp.
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
11.4.2010: Containment Poem:
Labels:
containment,
poem,
Poem a Day November 2010,
poetry,
poetry prompt
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