May 192017



Against the eager surf
pounding the monuments of stone,
unperturbed, a butterfly in pantomime
carves a yellow arabesque
– a hieroglyphic script engraved
with an instant’s wing
on the oblivious air.
I, reading the runic sign, would hope
or, God willing, would be certain
just as I am certain I should be sure –
oceans and insects, like men,
for seasons or eternities,
equally, as they say, endure.

Kirby Congdon

Facebook Comments

 May 19, 2017  Posted by at 12:46 am Issue #219, Kirby Congdon  Add comments

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

By continuing to use the site, you agree to the use of cookies. more information

The cookie settings on this website are set to "allow cookies" to give you the best browsing experience possible. If you continue to use this website without changing your cookie settings or you click "Accept" below then you are consenting to this. See our Privacy Policy here: