Norman Lloyd West

(San Francisco, California)


Poem by Norman Lloyd West

Sitting beside the curling water,
I play softly without
Thought to what,
If anything,
I play.

Only liking the sound,
The hollow sweetness
Of the notes changed
By water and darkness;
A lullaby synthesized,
To haunting immensity,
To that I should not
Help but to cry.

Thus-far from heaven,
The world has become
A different thing,
Then ever I'd known it
To be.

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Read poems about / on: water, heaven, world, change

Poem Submitted: Thursday, January 2, 2003