Half shadows in the late Afternoon

To create words form dust.
To watch the world,
silently tapping away in unconscious unity.
To have the world slip by,
projected in scrawls across a small flat screen.
To find music that seals your soul,
yet stirs up illicit concubines of the mind
To rage against the windowpanes
till it condenses into tiny pellets of water
slipping into nothingness
To find the end either arrives too quickly or too late
never in-between




Poetry by Su. G
Read 666 times
Written on 2006-10-29 at 18:04

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Zoya Zaidi
"yet stirs up illicit concubines of the mind"

Absolutely unique line!

Welcome to the bay, dear Su.

Love,
Zoya
2006-10-29