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midsummers' air welcomes me in a lucid tight embrace;
through the sage green light;
I finally make my way
measuring the mount; almost breathy,
I feel whimsical in the fleur blossom terrain
a mellow day in May, when the light wisterias were dangling under the lavender-gray veil
lying on the milky soft greenery,
I float away to a pearly porcelain gate
- half sunshine half grave
YOU ARE READING
Throes of Spring ✔️
Poetry[FEATURED] godhood is just like girlhood: a begging to be believed
