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April 27,2022

  • Sarah Van Arsdale
  • Apr 27, 2022
  • 1 min read

Prompt: a duplex, per Jericho Brown


The air so still

it makes my heart thrum.


I can hear the strumming robins’ wings

as they dart and dip


beneath the dippling lilac bough

that came down in the storm,


fragile pale buds, downy

as a chick’s new feathers.


The feathered frill of the daffodils

offers sheltering cups


for the bees, sheltered there

against the spring’s cold


a cold that’s holding on this year

to the air so still

it makes my heart thrum.

 
 
 

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