Poyetry

Tuesday, December 04, 2007

Sing, dark muse

the branches are bare, all life leached away
on a thin wind, tiny flakes fly across the bay
the far shore is hidden, far off in the fog
i cannot remember what is there, hidden in the gray
directionless, snow swirls
comfortless, wind keens and cuts
as bereft of hope as the branches without leaves,
i can no longer see or recall the distant shore
no lighthouse to mark dangerous shoals
no candle to call me home
a dark bird sings alone on the wire
sing, dark muse, balancing in the thriftless wind

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