The Voice Of A Quill, Now Silent
`
i am but the mottled bark
of a tree once firmly rooted,
peeled from its stately trunk
and within its hollow carapace
echoes an inert drumbeat
that keeps the cadence for
a march of ornate trappings
soon and sooner still, one day
this crepuscular orphelin song
resonant in its languid longing
shall surge with the rising tide
the sound of its condescencion
as it strikes the earth's bosom
ascends to a now-listening sky.
`
poem by Frederick Kesner
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
No comments until now.