“A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds.” -Percy Bysshe Shelley
Showing posts with label conversations with dead poets. Show all posts
Showing posts with label conversations with dead poets. Show all posts
Friday, September 18, 2015
Mi casa es su casa
You dwell in poetry-
A vulnerable Place to linger-
Barbed wire Words on windows
Galvinized steel-for Definition-
Of Places inside, nested under Forest-
In seas of Autonomy-
And to the Horizon
Poetry meets the blurry eye-
Guests-the wandering-
For chance-serendipitous-
The unfolding of another Dimension
Fused within Imagery-
(A mimicry of Emily Dickinson's #466 I dwell in possibility...)
Image by Peleg, Wikimedia Commons, March 2008.
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