Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
.
Dust hangs in the still air,
caught by a shaft of light,
shiny sprinkles float serene,
in space a string-less kite.

A particle catches the eye,
playing tai-chi within a ray,
the stationary free dance
of a mote at indulgent play.




© Pagan Paul (25/12/18)
.
Next page