June charita
I push bare toes through long grass
Dandelions yellow the field
Orange lilies bend in the wind
A big green caterpillar with red spots creeps on a broad leaf
I bend over him and whisper
"You are going to be a butterfly"
The Dead Poets Society met in a cave to read and share verse. This group is for poets who are very much alive, who have words running, pulsating through their veins. From an outside landscape that can be harsh and barren, we come together in this nurturing, verdant oasis; fellow wanderers, wonderers, sharing our words.
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