i am more than merely
wondered at the swift dawn,
even the how of light drifting
in and through these eyes
these light baring interwoven
pieces of my past, all lovely
littered deep with twisted dreams
sung carelessly away
the notes hung like spring leaves
eager for the summer sun
of indifference, gleaming rusted
red over this dawn
these eyes hung worn tired
all glass blown with images
dark swirls on moon white canvas
yellowed in the morning
Intriguing and engaging. I am a terrific fan of sunrise and sunset. This piece so captured and engaged my contemplation that I was compelled to write something of a counterpart to it. I tender the gesture as a humble compliment to this fine work. A Sunset, Somewhere
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Memories small and discretely dark Drift across the horizon of my mind Seabirds drifting across a tapestry Of muted, breath-frosted fire smudged across a passive horizon sliding into a hungry sea, devouring fire, engorging the azimuth of starry flame without a wisp of steam, without regard to the far driftwood shores unseen but sunken beneath the slick black gleam of a seabird's eyes. The gulf between the sea And the awakening stars Swallows the light and then the thought Of the gulls huddled and still, staring blankly At seabirds still in flight. The memory of what I once called home Drifts silently across my mind, Small and discretely dark.