f a l l e.l.




these ancient buildings/ruins
(in my ruminations rise again)
what name is that we hear spoken?
a hoot owl screeches in our midst
or is it only another soldierly ghost
losing footing/taken wing
what is this shuddering chill
creeping beneath human notice
like a footnote to a final scream
torn from the music of tangled bones
humming low hymns
into an everlasting f a l l...






Poetry by Charles Lezine
Read 505 times
Written on 2012-05-19 at 22:55

dott Save as a bookmark (requires login)
dott Write a comment (requires login)
dott Send as email (requires login)
dott Print text