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Apollo's Wreath
October 31, 2013
Once walking as the lustful and vibrant daughter
of the river god Peneus,
Now all I hear is the thistle thistle thistle of my leaves,
The winds bring upon the thistle and the wristle of my leaves,
My leaves as green as the fields of Elysian,
My bountiful beauty now kept in my shades of green,
The brine of time has taken its toll on me,
My attempt at escape ended futile,
When now I sit up above Apollo’s brow,
I am a crown perched upon the mighty God of the Sun
© Photo by Michael B., Denham Springs, LA
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