In Hall Of The Frozen Icicles Poem by Emmanuel George Cefai
In Hall Of The Frozen Icicles
These drop deep one by one
The key turns round and
Grates that opens the cemetery gate.
In we go, with shadows grey
And black
Around us in front after us
We are in waiting for the midnight bus
We are in waiting for the calm of night
And then the orgy of marches of night
Saturday, March 22, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: winter
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4/25/2024 7:01:53 AM # 1.0.0.1119
