Monday, March 30, 2009

National Poetry Day

the rounds of glass
reflect the light
and the care with which
they were polished
on the matt black cube table
between the matt black
cubed couches
from which poets release
winged words to fly about the room
eyes tearbright and lost in myth
breath fluttering in bird breast

the tulips in the gloss vase
with their orange cloth flame
slowly catch fire


Blogger Chris Never said...

Sounds like an exceedingly cool place for poets to gather and release words, love that analogy by the way.

I could wear my best black ensemble *grin*

2:54 PM  

Post a Comment

<< Home