Transit
The beery glass is drawnAt the wakening of dawn,
And with every sup he takes
A watery ring he makes,
Each one an orbital mark
As time ticks from light to dark,
And in a shaft of moonshine
He sees the world in a ball of wine.
Chris Fernie, 2009
Poetry by Chris Fernie
Read 566 times
Written on 2006-11-29 at 10:42



