Thursday, 7. August 2008
Description of A Landscape - II
After another night of squalls,
the city rinsed of smoke veers
From a sail flecked bay.
Like a train accelerating in Its underground dark, the apostate Blood quickens its tread again.
This logic the lurching heart flails To grasp - of how and why it continues To beat out its vegetal rhythm even
As Adrienne recedes deeper into The oaken shadows of a new morning.
My Poems
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