A Poem Holds Your Hand
A poem holds your hand
It whispers come gather
These windblown, fruits
Eat of this sun's lather.
The bee's stamens sting,
Is like a gloved fist.
And, like the poets pen!
Must die a little to coexist.
Vertigo, dizzies itself on a cleft
Like a blackbird in full song!
The chorus is short-lived:
But it's echoes are lifelong.
poem by Mark Heathcote
Added by Poetry Lover
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