Apocalypse Moon Poem by David Kowalczyk
Apocalypse Moon
Rating: ★5.0
The wind becomes a knife,
cutting the edges of your eyes.
Begonias die slowly
on the scorched windowsill.
Shards of ash flutter
like moths through the faded light,
gentle settle on burnt blossoms.
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
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4/25/2024 10:42:35 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Ah, the pristine imagery here. What a compelling vision!