Apple-man
   book in hand
(a gift from a flower
   to a garden).
Blossom tree friend
   close to the end,
fingers twitch with
   creative detail,
Debussy flows in afterglow
   of quiet candle
life's wonder is here.
   The old room, rickety,
still boasts a vital character,
   sense of jeweled treasure.
A can of BookBinders soup
   rests on end-table
crinkled, paper roses
   beckon to a subtly beating heart
there's a twilight mist outside,
   April showers.

Brain Candy E-Zine has no rights to this poem.  The rights belong to the author.

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