Gavin Kenneth Shaw
For sun waving its staff, to impart the seed to search long plains beyond the façade-
For divulging seas to dash until missing- in the chase of all strung indigo, that pulls the fat shaggy ropes of the opulent tide.
I walked up the mountain, but to see the world, one must use his, a different shade of light,
I carried my poems, but to see them spill off the page into the wind, and leave the white- blank.