Another year

Thus I called the pending year
by all fear night concludes with cries
and kites that that fly with stars
in their wondrous wake.

This is nothing less than a promised glimpse
a voyage of consequence that delivers its way
from here to all potential said so
and back again.

Drab stories fall short at dusk.
Frenzied flakes of sub content
sliver down the darkened moon
to meet what does not matter.

I called for the turn of a perfect phrase
to burn like a wireless cat while I
softly anchored the spinning night
to a very different kind of life.

Fleeing notions of all that wanes
perpetuates all that image represents
thus colliding with all wild tomorrows
that supplies the vision bird.




Poetry by Bob
Read 716 times
Written on 2006-01-04 at 00:22

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John Ashleigh
A describing of all enjoyable and pending seasons. A year - a month - another day....all to celeberate and write about. Another great write, Bob.
2006-01-06


liz munro The PoetBay support member heart!
Not a big fan of your poetry style [free-verse], but love the visual imagery created in your last stanza.
Liz
2006-01-04