In The Dusk Poem by Emmanuel George Cefai
In The Dusk
In the dusk
The beetle whose wing ply
Without a noise
Flows slow and stately
Yet
Secure and sad
Amidst the musk of particles
That float in the dusk airs
Amidst the vibration and
The tintinabulum of discordant
Chores of notes:
Whigs
That fly alone across
The cemeteries at night
Romantic cloaks and masks
Of olden centuries
And
All be drear
Drear
Drear
Friday, January 17, 2014
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4/26/2024 10:47:29 AM # 1.0.0.1119
