12 A Day for Virginia

leaning against the door frame, missing voice on dry paper

empty hands unable to grasp a few blue flowers after all

molded butter in cupcake puzzles, it is their art of getting by

the  persumed dead arriving at the porch swing banter

giving up their names in losses over battels never fought

for all the daisies by the river she throws breadcrumbs in scarlet cloth

near the ending falling leaves hovering fagile branches on their knees

countess of an afar heirloom, little birds in wooden cages

 

Copyright © 2012 by Franziska Dirnberger

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One thought on “12 A Day for Virginia

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