by Eleanora Day
never heard morning quite described this way, nicely avoids the cliche of gray. Very nicely done!
"The sky is turning to milk,
gray pearlesence; the birds
are speaking.
The night breathes its dying sibilance."
is better than the one before.
I wish I could describe the pictures I see in these
just gorgeous, languid, timeless lovers.
These really are paintings, works of art.
and the words......
Seductive
Some of your best writing ever
Thank you
This poem was mentioned in the Archival Review thread, in a picking through Lit's archive of over 37,500 poems.
----------