Remember Poem by Dan Danila
Remember
I, the taster of late autumns,
hardly remembering the tobacco flower
spying the shivering hoary lake –
can sometimes hear my heartbeat.
At daybreak – only the lamp
of the old man polishing lenses
and the poet's narrow window
are still tempting the fireflies;
while the rose leans forward,
between verbs, against our engraved
arms; when silence is a swan
that has turned away from dying
and the moon is drying up her wings
like a newborn butterfly...
when silence is a swan that has turned away from dying and the moon is drying up her wings like a newborn butterfly... I love your taste of autumn!
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5/4/2024 5:42:24 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Beautiful words, Dan. 'At daybreak – only the lamp of the old man polishing lenses and the poet's narrow window are still tempting the fireflies; while the rose leans forward, between verbs, against our engraved arms; ' - This is exquisite writing.