Submissions by zorba

And in its nubile form the light is poached          
and falls upon a sheath of blinding blonde;              
the sluggard day now creeps with razored sword,              
‘till morning glories spiral tight response.              
              
The disemboweled bright sentences run on              
in harsher hues with vacant lines of gold;              
rays that stab the shade with arguments,              
scabbard drawn, a heckling noon exposed.              
               
Assured with careless glide, forgets its arc,    ...