“A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds.” -Percy Bysshe Shelley
Sunday, September 4, 2016
Lackluster
You will know
by the light
and somehow confidence flickers...
They all said This-let the light
guide you
Briskly.
It is just
when the winds pick-up
and the leaves begin to dance
a show
of envy-
in longing for the limelight
Strewn
and Plain.
Watch and listen,
while the scenery changes.
Tears beget laughter-
save your breath,
you will need to hold it
yourself.
Without a word-
Do not seek
just go.
It is near.
Painting by Shigeru Aoki (青木繁) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
White
Unopened mail on the counter, a meal half eaten sits on the table, fork frozen in position of the last bite. A world abandoned mid-sentence,...
-
Natures touch is both gentle and fierce. Homo sapiens trample on her back. The thick skin impossible to pierce. So...
-
A year ago this May, in fact, upon this same very grey day- something came over me I found could say, in no other way but to portray, ...
-
Water Today, warm raindrops glass blurs, the blurry glassy, sharp sparkles sugar. Behind Evening, it was good. Leaves all turned into shadow...

No comments:
Post a Comment