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Evening Primrose

These butterfly-yellow flowers

grow low and delicate

on Sharon’s cliffs


All day they nod

as a smiling Mediterranean sun

conducts the orchestra


Breakers, cries of gulls

little children

frolicking on the shore


Then as Maestro Sol

descends his podium

and Mother Moon emerges


Puts on her lipstick

stealing some yellow

from the flowers


They fold their petals

into sleep and dream

of sipping milk and lullabies


Under the stars

until night’s interval is over

and the clamor of day resumes


Here in this fragment of a country

where milk honey and turmoil

live side by side


We close our petals

every night

and dream of peace

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© Johnmichael Simon



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