The Departure.

The lengthening spread of night
sinks my vessels filled

the lights, unhappy properties
draw me colour blinded to their sleep.
With wonder – when he stops to ask;
that I am exhausted’.
Then let it not come, by stranger’s mouth
I reply.
For I should listen only, to sounds lighter
than the wind,
dancing in the dry cotton grass.

 

Poppy
April 28th 2015

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