April – week 3


our armour

we are all as fragile

as butterflies

on the breeze


do not go gentle

yet walk in beauty…

poems that shape me,

etched in stone

with a butterfly’s wing


April morning

a goldfinch fans her wing

into a rainbow


sowing poppies

and sunflowers…

a goldfinch glistens



cherry blossoms —



visiting hours

moments of clarity,

moments of despair…

veiled and unveiled by cloud

the moon in dusk-lilac sky


This entry was posted in haiku, micropoetry, pentastich, tanka and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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