The moon smiles
in a scimitar cupped in
a crackling sunset's horizon.
But - below letters litter
In twinkling droves driving
Swords through stems
Of flowers sprouting books.
The river moans as it shrinks
it becomes conjecture
perspectively smaller
so the letters wriggle
against their pages.
It's now - a page flies free
and the letters do too, landing
On our tongues.
Oct 11, 2025
Oct 11, 2025 at 1:23 PM UTC
The moon smiles
in a scimitar cupped in
a crackling sunset's horizon.
But - below letters litter
In twinkling droves driving
Swords through stems
Of flowers sprouting books.
The river moans as it shrinks
it becomes conjecture
perspectively smaller
so the letters wriggle
against their pages.
It's now - a page flies free
and the letters do too, landing
On our tongues.
A response to the HelloPoetry Community's most recent choice of inspiration picture.
Request permission to use this poem