I await,
like a weather-beaten statue
for impregnation.
No angel of annunciation
dares to haunt
the sadness of my dark corner.
Outside,
a mountain-ash in blossom
looks forward to bearing
it's fruit of red berries.
I have difficulty in looking that far ahead.
Aug 30, 2010
Aug 30, 2010 at 8:32 AM UTC
I await,
like a weather-beaten statue
for impregnation.
No angel of annunciation
dares to haunt
the sadness of my dark corner.
Outside,
a mountain-ash in blossom
looks forward to bearing
it's fruit of red berries.
I have difficulty in looking that far ahead.