- Non-Erotic Poetry
- Ephemeral
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Click hereWhen the morn rose
wrapt in its sombreness
birds flocked in droves
alighting here then everywhere
picking, and lifting
sometimes pecking
What is left when the rains arrive
melding All that remained into Gaia
old dust made us and to the dirt we will go
Is that a cry of the soul
or simply Mans crime against man
entrails fall, as W/we are disembowelled everyday
Who knew what the night was
save it is black
Where are Mine eyes,
who took My sight
Can I see the wondrous splendour of My beloved
Or Shall she remain
etched on the eyelids of My mind?
- COMMENTS
LeBrozover 16 years agoThis poem was mentioned in the Archival Review thread, in a picking through Lit's archive of over 38,000 poems.
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Angelinealmost 17 years agoI got this poem on the archive spinner this morning and was delighted to be in the world of your poems again, however briefly. Wish you were still here. :-)
Recommended in the New Poems thread in the Poetry Feedback and Discussion forum.
~Angeline
