Goldenrod Late September

By John I. Blair 

 

Like feathers made of foliage
Goldenrod spikes the sky,
Pointing at the stars above,
So bright, so cold, so high,

So high I cannot hold them
Within my earthbound brain,
Which struggles just to grasp
The grace of flowers, the feel of rain.

©2016 John I. Blair, 9/24/2016

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