This Place

Who is this which comes and leaves this place
Never speaks above hypnotic whispers
Says her prayers while unawares velvet vespers
Synchronize within her eyes crossing wires of light like aerial ballets
Who is this that wears a face so resolutely non erotic
So curiously unlike the same old same so symbiotic mixing
Morning colors weaving some belief some unknown others with
Sheer blank spaces and the ancient traces of a forgotten name
Who is this which is not two but yet is only one and the same
Who is this which comes and leaves this place . . .



Poetry by Chaucer Whethers
Read 560 times
Written on 2019-08-12 at 12:22

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