it's in the way dark spring folds

it's in the way dark spring folds
soft brisk hills of the coming
I find tools to soften the ire

there is a silent song running
like a cold sore through chords
of death dying somewhere else

stamina is a short termed state
engagement can't last
let's all be fooled by the instant

silhouettes of trees taken
by the deepening of the sky still
a dirty blue on the run

the size of a perception here
keeps a generous distance
to the path of all paths




Poetry by Bob
Read 715 times
Written on 2016-03-27 at 20:04

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