“A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds.” -Percy Bysshe Shelley
Monday, July 20, 2020
I am-phibian
A line in the sky
caught my eye
the barbed hook
of crescent moon
took no time
pulling my chin up
and out
of my element
and taking my breath
outside
the warm body
weightless
I can only wait
for lightness
to break
through
a comforting zone
at terminal velocity
relevant
only to the speed of
dreams and nightmares
piercing through
this illusion
of you
waking up
or falling down
but always catching
a peek
under the surface.
Painting by Lionel Walden, 'Twilight, Evening Star and Crescent Moon' c. 1925 in Public domain.
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