Tread deep in the gravel bed
A rocky, mineral street
where the heavens left a mark
We wrote on the slate our only names
until we acquired more
With initials we scribed forever
Sleeping spirit until now
with jokes of things uncertain
floundering in the rushing stream
Hidden from eternity we watch
as stars die and yet we live
in words that echo past the grave
YOU ARE READING
The Nautilus
PoetryWe are so dark in the heart of this night and it never stops and it never starts. I find myself a mystery and I see nothing that surrounds me that I endeavor to know more than the universe inside myself. Michael J Tyger, poet and novelist...
