Poetry Blogs (arrow)
To hang on a wall of my empty room,
I think I will need a picture of rain.
Hitting the ground, and springing up to ankles,
Rain wets the socks and trousers from below.
My eyes chase along
Roof-edges, streets, sidewalks,
--tick, tick, tick--
Checking all, one by one,
To find a dark brolly,
And a woman in black enamel shoes,
Lightly treading the...
Saturday 27th June 2020 7:47 am
The Eye of Morning
I am the arrow of dawn, and
rise as the archer kneels,
strains his bow, sets the sky ablaze,
dissolves at the borderland
between light and shade, Heaven
and Hell; his firebrands mere crass
cascades of incendiary petals,
guttering in chiaroscuro swells.
Behold the evanescent rose-glow
of morning's opening eye.
Friday 20th October 2017 1:41 pm