“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 ivy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ivy. Show all posts
Saturday, September 10, 2016
Petty theft
It is inappropriate to boast about the broad, beautiful,
waxen new wrap around the money tree-
the broadening face sized lime leaves of the ivy...
because this is ordinary
and the evil trumpet dies down dispersing
crimson cornet flutes on the concrete too, liberally.
It is disturbing to think of the wasted ink, tendrils of creepers
tangled in lines suffocating acumen. And then, under the awning;
languid is the light with her stole of dull emeralds
It was just all right.
Image By (Photo) (c)2007 Derek Ramsey (Ram-Man) (Self-photographed) [GFDL 1.2 (http://www.gnu.org/licenses/old-licenses/fdl-1.2.html)], via Wikimedia Commons.
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