Handheld

 

As colour refracts through

An arcade of blossom,

Sideways motions from

A scented impromptu

Flurry of tree’s hands,

Commemorating

Applause, delighting

In light, astounds

The air and you kept hold

Tight, our new June time, and

When I am handheld,

I shine with it.

 

 

Vaguely optimistic nonsense poetry about being young and in love, and in Spring. 

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3 thoughts on “Handheld

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