Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
Running through a field of stars past the twirling gnomes… The Bell-whistle blows as the train rolls in, For the field of stars; my home… An ashen horse in Celtic glee, And me; a weary sack of bones.
0
Jun 14, 2016
Jun 14, 2016 at 5:40 PM UTC
Orion
Running through a field of stars past the twirling gnomes… The Bell-whistle blows as the train rolls in, For the field of stars; my home… An ashen horse in Celtic glee, And me; a weary sack of bones.
The ashen horse is the moon, the gnomes are the twins; Gemini ...the train rolling is the stars in their daily/nightly journey. Read Plato's Cratylus.
david-john-mowers
Written by
Jun 14, 2016
Jun 14, 2016 at 5:40 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem