Search This Blog

Tuesday, September 3, 2019

Morning


Washed in morning light
Sparrows in flight spread their wings
Their flock fluttering

The wind bites my cheek
It’s cold-bright lash whipping me
I walk in the sun

The furies watch me
Crawl into the broken shell
Hollow, as the heart

There is no shelter
From their chiding barbs
The Erinyes

My misconceptions
Empty as the barren womb
As the empty tomb

Promises of life
Bathed in spring rain, streaming cold
By the garden, greening

Murmurs of laughter
Bubble, burst in the light
Nonsensical, trite

The creative will
Burning for the deity
In the morning sun

No comments:

Post a Comment

I am very interested in your commentary, please respond to anything that interests you.