Echoes

I miss your shadow here,
the market place see all
I look for in tertian nights
oboes ride the river reed
and all is silently more.

You are the lunar control
I touch when you are not here,
gasping at itch and longing,
moments it all blinked
and ceremonies turned echoes.




Poetry by Bob
Read 591 times
Written on 2009-08-02 at 03:32

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Brian Oarr
I think we all "long the moments it all blinked" ... We just needed you to make the longing crystalize, Bob. Good stuff!
2009-08-02



Enjoyed the read, the title roped me in and I was glad I visited you again. Love the short reads filled with so much. This reminded me of something different and I was glad to be taken on the journey through reading your fabulous creative talent.
2009-08-02