Poem: Sculpture By The Window
Subtle wind rift shakes golden fingers round soft warm glow
Whose glowing globes has shades point opposed
Upon my window its radiance exposed
People and roads and abodes
My mind -
A metal man on windowsill
Topples what has been left behind
To ravage and forge some thought sublime
Whose tightrope walk works the sole of Fulcrums heel
Observations: That Snow-globe Of Mine
My snow globe has a figurine within it
A girl with a rose whose gown flows in the ether
Where as Maria has the very same globe but with a mushroom in place of the girl
The mushrooms flowing gown with no-body around.
I am the one who gently joggles in the seasons.
1 comment:
got your letter.
writing you now.
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