Mar 2015
Dark, this
restive hour, when
I search for a secret
peace, that lies lurking in the heart,
lost moon,
pre-dawn,
before worry
rises to shine on the furlough
when grey the twilight in furtive
retreat:
this hour,
when winds summon
birds to the distant realms
when little voices rise on beaming
star lakes.
restive hour, when
I search for a secret
peace, that lies lurking in the heart,
lost moon,
pre-dawn,
before worry
rises to shine on the furlough
when grey the twilight in furtive
retreat:
this hour,
when winds summon
birds to the distant realms
when little voices rise on beaming
star lakes.
A set of 3 American Cinquains (thanks to inspiration from my new poet friend Robert Okaji http://robertokaji.wordpress.com/)
.
.
(Quantum Dot)
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