Turning and turning in the widening gyre
Now Playing: Blue Oyster Cult - Fire of Unknown Origin
Because Edna St Vincent Millay makes my heart ache, and because the world is tipping over into ruin, here's a poem from Second April.
Mariposa
Butterflies are white and blue
In this field we wander through.
Suffer me to take your hand.
Death comes in a day or two.
All the things we ever knew
Will be ashes in that hour,
Mark the transient butterfly,
How he hangs upon the flower.
Suffer me to take your hand.
Suffer me to cherish you
Till the dawn is in the sky.
Whether I be false or true,
Death comes in a day or two.
So go carpe those diems in 2007, y'hear?
2 comments:
Are you seizing the day as we speak? Or, in some devilishly-twisted Latin, are you seizing the small bird?
NON CARPE AVEM PARVAM.
Poor budgie.
considering 'carpe' means 'pluck', all this talk of plucking and budgies leads to some very off-putting imagery. :D
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