Red, blue dreams
ascend towards the sky
Like helium balloons
As the child chases
a butterfly
The balloons rise
but in sight, still
The butterfly,
too far away
Coal black bombs descend
And helicopters
for humming birds
The child, dust,
and aching bones
Roses don’t
in debris, bloom


Share it :)Share on FacebookTweet about this on TwitterGoogle+share on TumblrPin on PinterestShare on LinkedInEmail to someone



Leave a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *