Donations are essential to keep Write Out Loud going    

The Future Is Another Country

 

You think that is the Moon?
That is a pale ghost of the Sun.
You know, of this immersion in silver
how very little is silver, don't you?

In this light we work out our course.
Each on a different planet; 
as though joined at the hip.
Then blazing Sun accuses us again.

◄ Power In The Eyes

Wakey, Wakey ►

Comments

No comments posted yet.

If you wish to post a comment you must login.

This site uses cookies. By continuing to browse, you are agreeing to our use of cookies.

Find out more Hide this message