Skip to content

December

December 9, 2011

tricklings of sunlight,

settlings of dust

 

time in stillness,

and wooden angles,

and rough stone, whitened.

 

counting what little has accumulated,

and yet, while spinning, so much has gone on

 

hidden trapdoor mirrors bounce back light

and a tune twists through the gentle air, in circular repetition,

somewhere between an anthem and a lullaby, somewhere between a ballad and a blues

Advertisements
No comments yet

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: