The Moya View
Milkweed Only the ditchholds the milkweed upright,stalks locked in rigid white columnsleaves testing the air—lifting, lowering,tight nodes of clenched flowerswaiting for the yellow-black migration.The secretions thicken: pods swell,harden under the heatcoming apart,dark seeds pushing outwardtrailing thin, pale filaments-until the field is full of drifting bodies—light, persistent, moving—close to the grounduntil they are gone and the ditch is bare.
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JONATHAN MOYA
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Beautifully written poem 🫰🏾🫰🏾🫰🏾
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