It's You
The Sun does not set each day
it is obscured;
its red finger-lights,
its rushing sun beams
retreat
blushed into embarrassment.
The green spot
at sunset
over water
is an exclamation point.
It's You.
I have seen the Firmament
draw its curtains closed;
I have seen Inner Night
recline on Silk-Covered Anticipations.
Its You.
Winds quiet.
Beasts are soothed,
all is twilight.
It's You.
Thunder soft,
gathering intensity
fueled
by nothing but a smile
it seems;
descends;
once again
magic time
comes real.
Each time spackled expection.
Each time cart-wheeling surprize
Each time unreal.
In the quiet rush
I hear foot-steps.
It's You
The room has no oxygen;
[...] Read more
poem by Lonnie Hicks
Added by Poetry Lover
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