By A.E. Bayne
The meteor measures our breath in streams of stardust.
O! Conscience in the cold,
How far will you go to find a home with me?
Night's damp chill hangs over us still,
And you, in perpetuity,
Pluck lightly over my heartstrings,
Playing each with the touch of a weaver.
Star shower reigns overhead,
As your fingers twine mine with ease.
Observation 72
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"Sometimes life is so... I don't know. Ironic? Bizarre? The latest example:
the lead story on the news is still The Leak. But now it's the Wikileaks
releas...
2 days ago
2 comments:
A wonderful way to start my morning by reading your work; lovely, just lovely.
Sometimes you hit stuff so right on that it is unbelievable. In my humble opinion, one of your best. Thank you.
Wow, thanks for that, Ruth. It's a poem that is dear to my heart.
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