Sparrows call into the pool
This pool reflects the night
White embers speckle gradual
The cord isn't so tight.
A crowd of glowing indigence
The golden fury reigns
A slip of finger once again
The pool begins to rain.
Begone dry skies once more
Begone soft earth below
Cold tears flood the feet
Of the many poor folk.
Uproar converts the masses
Strange shrieks convert the shore
We stand on the verge
Once more.
MUSINGS #17: I realized that water is a common metaphor I continue to use over and over again throughout my poetry. Everyone has a favorite definitive metaphor. What is yours?
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Musings: A Poetry Compilation
PoetryPoetry and prose for the poets out there eager to get their helpings of more and more of the written page...because there is never enough ink to satisfy the soul.