Dancing till death

24 Apr

In crannies and crevices

They sometimes bloom

Wee little flowers

That take up no room

But they had their friends

May be lovers too

Sharing the space

In which they grew

They smile and waltz

In the summer breeze

That sweeps through the valley

Rustling through the trees

They live and die

Just as anybody else

And if nobody noticed

Why, they couldn’t care less.

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Posted by on April 24, 2011 in Poetry



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