Konstantinos Mark


Hoarse - Poem by Konstantinos Mark

Hoarse as the silence Virgil
wore...to allow for a clearing,
be it a soul.
A spring breeze caught in the
throat of winter saith: 'Here
is your point (remain) ...when
I cease to blow, so shall you
return.'
At the farthest end of loss...
at the closest reach of gain,
their one and the sameness
shall impress a telling.
Hoarse as the silence Virgil
wore...to allow for a clearing,
a soul saith unto itself thus.

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Poem Submitted: Tuesday, February 18, 2014

Poem Edited: Tuesday, February 18, 2014


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