A Speckled Egg

Quail Eggs

On the nineteenth day, we sat to eat
Eight quail eggs for our Sunday feast
Seven eggs of powder blue
One for me, six for you
At half past five on
Four slices of
Three grain bread
Were two
Halves

©Kay Salady

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About Kay Salady

I write about the greatest force on earth that, I believe, lives on forever and surpasses all else. "All your poems read like I am watching an artist use words instead of colours full of feeling." ~Anon.

Posted on March 19, 2017, in Kay Salady Poetry, nonet poetry, poetry, the poetry of kay salady, Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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