The Monarch

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March 25 by The Running Son

The Monarch

Newly stretched canvases collect
heirloom inks.

Painted deserts sink,
and the wind streams whisk us off
to promised gardens where, with luck,
a soft copse of young Mulberrys’ll provide
loft to better view the pageant: low laying
participants buzz, achatter and primping
their primary pigments, and we’ll all scatter
toward these hearts, opening petals
and parting in slow CGI, special effects
provided by nature’s fine arts.

 

 

 

 

by Jim Aldrich (:

 

©2013 JimAldrich

☀ ☁

All Poetry by RunningSon, aka Jim Aldrich

.namaste.   -• ö.tH(ink)Mÿstiç •-   .namaste.

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RFB editor Jim Aldrich, Joshua Tree CA 2013

RunningSon aka Jim Aldrich, Joshua Tree CA 2013 | This site is dedicated with the deepest gratitude to Dr. Cláudio Naranjo, whose writings gave me life.

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