“A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds.” -Percy Bysshe Shelley
Sunday, April 5, 2020
Sprung from shallow graves
See, so busy not
Doing, having not enough
work to kill the Time
Space grows between Us
All ways of masonry wall
builders Handiwork
Stepping on our souls
Shaky grounds cause pause,
no mans land turning Over
'Til awoken from
Trenches such like ruts we run
down the clock counting.
Painting by Caspar David Friedrich (1774-1840, 'The Cemetery' c. 1825 in Public domain.
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