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Literature Text
there is magic here,
in this land of stark beauty,
on the shoulders of the world.
falling through the trees,
falling through slanting sun shafts,
the rain becomes molten gold.
in this land of stark beauty,
on the shoulders of the world.
falling through the trees,
falling through slanting sun shafts,
the rain becomes molten gold.
Literature
sublimate
shards of frozen glass
melt to sand in the cold sun
castle is fallen
Literature
seeker
I wander much through such old country,
a ghost who's thinking of other ghosts,
missing them and their effects,
an exile from the present, and from past.
Literature
Longing
Missing you
is forsaking
the cooler side of the pillow
for the side that remembers
the impression of your cheek
and the soft smell of your hair.
It's reveling
in the butterfly thrill
of your gentle embrace,
but aching to close
the Rubin-vase distance
that separates us.
It's the difference between
the sound of your silver Corolla
as you pull to a stop
in my cul-de-sac
and the way it sounds
when you leave.
It's weaving "I love you"
into every word,
every touch,
every song,
short of actually saying it.
But the thing is,
I don't know
how much longer I can go
without saying it.
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22.08.14
a sedoka
a sedoka
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Comments15
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well done! the image of the last line is very memorable!