“A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds.” -Percy Bysshe Shelley
Sunday, August 14, 2016
Catch & Release
You may have caught my gaze,
strangling my breath
by the gauge of your twisted line.
A casualty,
in a swoop of wind
disturbing the flow-
now you will let me go
for sport.
Remind me of the rules
once more,
since participation is voluntary
and mine has been cut short.
Spar and span, pick your sport,
there will always be one better.
Painting by Winslow Homer [Public domain], Fishin (1879) via Wikimedia Commons.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Feather weather
Before I arose the tangerine sunrise squeezed its citrus air through my bedroom window dripping fresh squeezed nectar of a new day onto the...
-
Water Today, warm raindrops glass blurs, the blurry glassy, sharp sparkles sugar. Behind Evening, it was good. Leaves all turned into shadow...
-
1. Of my Soul a street is: Preternatural Pic- abian tricktrickclickflidk-er garner of starfish Picasso...
-
The ship sailed West on Sunday The wind was too wild on Wednesday Our arrow plane rips the paper sky, severing space for itself, i...

No comments:
Post a Comment