Mist and fog and morning,
all my friends,
want to frame my thoughts
with pewter colored goals;
apprenticing at life
and studenting at leisure,
coming to the same lake,
desire,
where the light burns steadily
as the mountains
swallow up the noise
and shelter me from
my lost
silence
Like this:
Like Loading...
Tagged: Tags Poetry
Published by Beleaguered Servant
Owen "Beleaguered" Servant (a/k/a Sibelius Russell) writes poetry mostly, with an occasional pause to have a seizure.
View all posts by Beleaguered Servant