“A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds.” -Percy Bysshe Shelley
Showing posts with label lasso. Show all posts
Showing posts with label lasso. Show all posts
Sunday, November 17, 2019
Blue blood
The heaviest ink
a writer bleeds
are a Mothers Eulogy
and the vows
etched for Matrimony.
These marks,
deeper than tattoo
annotate and commemorate
an expression of Life and Risk
All
Love to Lose.
We may say
nothing aloud
that sounds like what
It is
to trap butterflies
with a lariat.
Artwork credited by W.T. Benda, cover of Life magazine September 1923 in [Public domain].
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