deepundergroundpoetry.com
shafts and motes
i exist in a quiet corner
within a single shaft of light
i mingle with motes and wrotes
i am totally free
able to thought in speed
and to differ
with the other mortals
the light feeds me
the dark leads me
to which do i abode in recede?
Published 31st Dec 2016
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9th Jan 2017 12:34pm
that a poem is the tip of a flame -
crest of a smallest imagine;
it is merely this...
crest of a smallest imagine;
it is merely this...
