Her skies have ranged through gold in lavender broken hues

As queen moon smiles, cold and distant

Silhouetted tresses marching in… an army rising as stars in the horizon

Bustling crowds long gone
–A hush overcomes, filling each crevice of earth

Left in our corners
–Washing fingers into the deep, darkening sky

A silent plea to Orion on the clouds…
To come pass us by.


In a Brian Patten mood. The man knows how to assemble and disassemble his words. Above, an ode to silence and a welcome break from recent posts. Always teetering between poetry and prose, as a poet-friend once labelled me. I’m still trying to find a niche.

2 thoughts on “Time.

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