The Dark Poem by D A Phinney

The Dark



The sun is not up yet
I spy a shuffling silhouette
That light would make into a man
Down past my gate across the road
It moves with slow and insubstantial
Motion
If I were to call-
But dark makes creatures of us all
Shadow where might be eye or hand
For distance undefines belief
First light must show for eye to touch its
Ocean

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D A Phinney

D A Phinney

Ithaca, New York
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