A Glass Of Water
A glass of water sat on a book of poems,
Hiding the moon,
Pointing out the angels,
Jutting out of the window.
An ominous feeling fills the air.
The moon being covered darkens the room.
The glass is removed from atop the book.
No ring of liquid is left on the book,
But the book is now very cold.
In the light of the new moon,
The golden letters, spelling the name of the long dead poet, gleam.
His ghost leaves the book and enters me.
I am cursed.
The light is burnt.
The door is broken.
I cannot stop writing.
I hide the moon again.
A glass of water sits on a book of poems.
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Comments about this poem (A Glass Of Water by Stephen Carey )
- With plan, hasmukh amathalal
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- With dignity, hasmukh amathalal
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- Long before my birth (cavatina), Gert Strydom
- Let Me Be Her<3, Nautica Moxley
- Absalom, Gert Strydom
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