Lonely walking night often siren sings
not to yawning eyes or blind ears but other things
from chalk-faced listener leaf to moon-wrinkled creek,
star-glossed whisperings
softly flit light-knit wings, float
like wind-tamed shadows coaxing nameless remote
to blush nest-nuzzled beak or shale-caked cheek
mime remembering
times depth-touched some quiet whenwhere alone,
all at once sensing love of sigh life, Whole at home--
reflective moats of sun-flaked grass, sky-hi tree and wavy limb
review numb-drum notes until marching dawn starts a new felt-heart hymn.
Shadesay
Re: Shadesay
You're welcome. I conjured that up a couple weeks ago, based on a place nearby. I like writing
the "nature" poems even more than ones mocking kosher kooks and their multicultureless mutations
the "nature" poems even more than ones mocking kosher kooks and their multicultureless mutations