“A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds.” -Percy Bysshe Shelley
Friday, September 30, 2016
Simple sunset sought
This is not life-it is living
hot for a time
wet for a while
until salt only remains...
the ocean swallows us
wholeheartedly we wait at
her ledge at sundown
remixing our urge to merge
in gold lights flecks flicker
a flame bathed in warmth
dazzling its prisms by hint
of change for photophores
Photo credit: By United States Navy [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.
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