If purple is the hardest color
For the eye to see
Then maybe all us purple-lovers
Are seers to the fairylands
Where dawn spirits sing
And poet bells ring
Harbingers of the night
To our awaiting ears.
Purple
More by OverTheRainbow
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spring in vermont
snowing and sunny and raining and the birds are chirping and the crocuses are awakening and you'd think it was some kind of warping dimension but the yard is full of brightness and half-melted snow and it's spring in vermont, so,
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on hereness
there weren’t enough chairs in the growing room,
open as always to the prophets
& the wind. and so as people poured and poured
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8:15 p.m. on a wednesday night
it is terrifying to read two hundred and fifty-year-old writing condemning the king's actions and realize the president (king) of your country is guilty of all of these
Comments
I love this poem, especially as a purple lover! :)
Thanks!
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