Phantasm Poem by Barry Middleton
Phantasm
the apparition of the town
stopped to let the stars fall down
the aged poet sat bemused
by dreams and questions he perused
regardless how the cold wind blows
the songs of poets are composed
the night stands still in fantasy
of bygone tears and ecstasy
the tincture of the harvest moon
comes to end the saddest tune
but ghosts and phantoms yet abound
and wait to watch the sun go down
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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4/19/2024 7:20:51 AM # 1.0.0.1119
