Daphne to Apollo

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Perhaps it is my folly,
tucking away into the elbow of green—
the flutter of ebony dipped skies,
appetence clamours far more incessantly where there is no entrance.
An unembellished truth,
surges inside the boughs of my aortic archway—
if so, then why do I spend every minute hating myself?
The velvet dying of dusk mirrors your plight;
I have succeeded,
I am a laurel; I am things both blithely blissful
and tempestuously biting—
as waves upon other side of the shore Apollo, you seethe with head
buried in your palms.




Photo credits: “Daydreaming in Pink,” 24 x 18 oil on panel by Aaron Westerburg

Day Fifteen ~ History is Twistery ~ The Folly

Posted for Play It Again @ Real Toads

10 Replies to “Daphne to Apollo”

  1. Apollo knows, seek his guidance. Folks still visit his place, the Oracles of Apollo in Greece. They come mostly as tourists but many ask just in case. There was a wonderful documentary I saw on TV.
    Stay Safe ,

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