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From The Last Island: To Lady Elisabeth Verreet

Oval mirror of the sea,

age-warped isle waved and cloudy,

each angle crystalline and salty.

my lens into reality.

 

Point of space just visible,

focus of beams ineffable,

switch of signals transmissible,

receiver of voices inaudible

 

At time's edge. No need have I to shout

in fear about this death of mine.

And any creature here is glad

to offer you a glass of wine.

r
Written by
Regina Derieva
1949 - / Ukraine
Lines·Words
12·65
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