“A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds.” -Percy Bysshe Shelley
Saturday, August 29, 2015
Light cycle
The scalding star
bursting in beams
gives way, in due time
Tho not without a heated conflict
our only satellite set on high
sending signals where no one
can hide from the wrath and the aftermath
Both positions be known
observed and heeded
the dynamic cycle, black and white
from day to night
the changing of Our guards
who compose the length of our sentence
wardens we watch back.
Image by Henri Théophile Hildibrand [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Justice
It is only with calloused hands that the heavy body can claw and leverage the self upward on the thorny vine of a life without wince and whi...
-
Natures touch is both gentle and fierce. Homo sapiens trample on her back. The thick skin impossible to pierce. So...
-
Water Today, warm raindrops glass blurs, the blurry glassy, sharp sparkles sugar. Behind Evening, it was good. Leaves all turned into shadow...
-
Family members, Party members, Americans and American'ts: There will be no favors! Some were lovable, some detestable at b...

No comments:
Post a Comment