the day lilies extend themselves
skyward, reaching,
hoping, believing,
a slender troop of mendicants,
their orange faces
upturned, burned
to the kiss from above,
the promise of fealty,
the whisper of love;
and their graceful, prayerful stance
makes me think of you,
and what a lucky fool I am.

June 29, 2009, for the Wifey.

Copyright © 2009, Ricky A. Pursley. All rights reserved.

No comments:

Post a Comment