a veil


I am the slow dying of day
meticulously folding darkness
into neat nights of no reason

I am despair with a name
that comes with long practice
and a big love to go

serenity is a ticking bomb
in suburbs of even less
where the unmoved burn

it is such a lovely illusion
I pass to the children
there will be no more

the gifted will dance
the poor will feed their time
to the calling senses

a horse a bird a wild thought
a bough rocking
in the gift of few seconds




Poetry by Bob
Read 628 times
Written on 2015-01-11 at 00:53

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This is truly inspiring. It speaks to me of the times we are living, the differences in religions and the wars waged over them. I like this very much.
2015-01-11