Painted Lady
by Paulette Demers Turco
(after “at the edge of the meadow”)

She was flitting about
deep blue coneflowers clustered
at the edge of the meadow
beside newly mowed grass,
as if dancing on stage–
ballerina jetés–
so unbothered by harsh
midday rays, all a-shimmer
on this still, summer day.



 

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