Still Poem by Garry Smith

Still



Still,
As possibilities,
Of that yet to come,
A cause,
Still to be won,
Who knows?
Caught in this dazzling glare,
Like the rabbit frightened,
With glazed eyes,
Full of fear.
Afraid to move,
From its motionless sanctuary,
Hopeful, the malevolent light,
Is just a beacon in the night...

Friday, February 22, 2013
Topic(s) of this poem: fearful
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