November 28th.

Colored like the leaves
eyes golden like the harvest moon
and the strangest tilt of the head
as it turns towards the rising sun;
fabled to be something wise,
well
much wiser than I,
and all the perfect nighttime songs
in the brawny blackened skies.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Desiderium

A Clarification of Clarity

Why Modern Politics is Destroying Us