Thursday, February 26, 2015

the stillness

of the misty nightwood

quarter moon smudge

on the red velvet sky

no sound

but the hiss of blood

through the ears

and it is easy to see

how time breaks and fades

on eternity

until we come back to ourselves

then the misty wood

is just chill and moist

and the moon disappears

behind clouds

and a peacock cries out as if in pain

and again each of us is alone....

Content (c) 2008-2015 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.

No comments: