Beauty, by Albert Ahearn Subscribe to rss feed for Albert Ahearn

We do not fit in with esteemed
Authority to ascertain
Beauty that their caste may deem
It to be--how shallow and vain
they are in our amateur eyes!
For us, magnificence finds us:
Virgin snowflakes fall from the sky
In myriad splendiferous
Silence; A flock of ring-billed gulls
Swooping wailing and squawking
In descending widen circles
amid the frozen flakes, settling
like miniature river floes.
This is beauty that’s apropos.
Posted: 2014-01-07 15:40:55 UTC

This poem has no votes yet. To vote, you must be logged in.
To leave comments, you must be logged in.