Sunday, March 11, 2012

self-portrait


when the ticking of the midnight clock
should descend into tumult of night
and stroke it’s merciful, day breaking tock
with all it’s waking might

a new creature appears full-up of hope,
daring for precepts to shatter
her nights dreams are not outside her scope
her betrayers will all be scattered


what you have known is a quiet shadow
- though I can hear your incredulous laughter -
this pan will allow a vociferous crow
when the fairy-spell is broke, ever after.




No comments:

Post a Comment