“A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds.” -Percy Bysshe Shelley
Thursday, October 17, 2019
Hunt(her)
She said to me the strangest thing,
I want to smell her alone-
away from the others
out of the masked scent
of deer and leaves-
The muse has her motives.
I am still
here
for you to pick up
the web-line
and feel me
waiting
for you
to find me
First.
I must warn you,
to not go too far or listen in too deep for
the Metaphor man who
speaks with more than his tongue.
It takes a second.
Imagine how he looks
back,
being a target is merely
one point to shoot for.
Painting by J. Alden Weir, 'Hunter and dogs' c. 1912 in [Public domain].
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