“A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds.” -Percy Bysshe Shelley
Wednesday, February 12, 2020
Warning signs
Red dawn
sits quietly
behind Eastern hills.
Space
is blue and cold
in moonglow flood-
light.
A candle flickers
inside
the window.
The birds stir
leaves,
while wind
picks up any loose
thoughts.
...the purpose of a flower,
color can make us
feel.
Beauty is perishable,
like the light
of this day.
A reflection glows
warmer,
warnings signs were every-
where
day breaks
hearts as light as air.
Painting by Herbert James Draper (1863-190), 'The Gates of Dawn', in Public Domain.
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