Aloft alone
in nightsky selflight
the moon
beheld below
the darkling pond:
midst unseen reeds;
and yearned.
“Thou noon to my night,
thou lute to my light,
…
…”
-- then stooped in sooth to kiss
her,
and sank, and swam, and shone therein.
[Note: The poem
is incomplete.
But at my time of life,
you never know when you might be gathered;
so here you go.]
No comments:
Post a Comment