Friday, March 6, 2015

poem of the day March 6


I never thought
of anything
except the queen of
water wings
whose dream
became
confused
by endless cycles
of floating muse
Time passes
within the night
Memories in open boats
adrift but 
lost in  ocean wide
Still I wonder what fate
will greet
each familiar face
washed over
sand hard tides

No comments:

Post a Comment