Sunday, September 8, 2013

Ephemeral

The mayflies dance and writhe
In joie de vivre
for just one day in May
mating again and again,
then the silence.
To the immortal gods
you and I—love—
are just two Mayflies
writhing on our bed
but for a day
and then we turn
back to clay.


David Cooper 8/13/13

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