nature poetry
An ode to Mother Nature; poems that take their inspiration from the great outdoors.
Larkspur
It climbs like a spell spoken slowly. Blue, violet, sometimes white, as if sky had found a way to root itself. Larkspur is delicate only at a distance. Up close, it’s tall, lean, and strange; petals shaped like wings, like spurs, like something halfway between bloom and gesture. It grows fast, then vanishes without fuss. Poisonous, they say, but only if you don’t know how to look.
By E. C. Miraabout a year ago in Poets
