From Surrogate Lamplighter Poem #1 Poem by Philippe Gravel

From Surrogate Lamplighter Poem #1



My cellphone yawns
While my neighbor rings a grave plea
At this time of the night
He must be a frank sailor if ever wants to evade sorrowful galleons
That is why he had fled onboard silver magic ships
Floating towards fleeting
Colombian sun clouds.

Friday, August 24, 2018
Topic(s) of this poem: echoes of a new day
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
Close
Error Success