Close Of Day Poem by james watkin
Close Of Day
Streaming away, goldly has
The god shaking out what is
No more than a ruin's light.
Moon pallor to haunt aright!
With this cool dread to cue it
A chilling spirit mounts up
Through swamp's veiled paddled outcry;
To which owls coldly reply.
In a reed-shuddering hour
Do we wrap the other round
Who, for acquaintance, half-met!
But for commitment are set!
Tuesday, August 13, 2019
Topic(s) of this poem: evening
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12/15/2025 12:16:01 PM # 1.0.0
