Three Lines At Cabot Corner
Sun sweeps; pandemic breeze.
Tag: sun
Some Blank Verse, In Which I Indirectly State That The Sunlight Fills The Room
Now mourned’s the passing peace of night, its flight flown with the scorching licks of star-fire at its torn ‘n frayed heels.
The Birth Day Of The Sun: Part III
Silent morning. Earthly peace. Servant girl re-swaddles.
The Birth Day Of The Sun: Part I
Bayit-Lekhem in wintrous calm as coarsest night kills evening.
Dependent On A Crashing Wave Of Fire
A spring begets a stream becomes a river raising tides.
william altoft 