The Horse Chestnut Spring

They go
from sticky bud
to fully unfurled
in a matter of days.
Its as if a thousand parasols
are raised,
strange white corals
upon the trees.
Until
the green new wings of butterflies
uncurl,
and broad leaf angels
take wing.


Ben Truesdale

If you've any comments on this poem, Ben Truesdale would be pleased to hear from you.

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