..
See the raven,
black against night’s last
indigo blush,
one lone smudged note
waiting on a wire.
The sinking moon’s an echoed
ache of loss and longing;
the sky’s a broken song.
..
November PAD, day 5.
..
See the raven,
black against night’s last
indigo blush,
one lone smudged note
waiting on a wire.
The sinking moon’s an echoed
ache of loss and longing;
the sky’s a broken song.
..
November PAD, day 5.
Achingly beautiful. This little poem is a gem.
Sheesh. That’s gorgeous.
That hanging-out-there “echoed” makes me think of the word “echolocation,” so my imagination sticks a bat in there. 🙂 Ooh, remember that movie Fern Gully? I’m that crazy bat, for sure.
(Shut up, Shawna. Stay on topic.)
This is stunning work, De. So good to hear your voice, always.
One lone smudged note. Lovely!