Click in the field, then press CTRL+C to copy the HTML code
Petite
the tiniest of watercolors
by a man called Ernst
transformed me into a caterpillar
dreaming of erstwhile flight.
my wings are powder-blue
like the cloudless sky:
I crisscross continents
ever on the fly.
I don't know what I eat
-perhaps nutrition is born and bred-
(not the cowdung that would make me retch) ,
maybe it's nutrients from the air I fetch.
I alight in a predetermined tree
and chew bloated leaves-
one summer passes,
and then I leave for good.
some super-being, or the earth herself
understands.
poem
by
Stan Petrovich
solid border
dashed border
dotted border
double border
groove border
ridge border
inset border
outset border
no border
blue
green
red
purple
cyan
gold
silver
black