THE ORANGE MIST

Wandering through the orange mist of day





I would become entangled in an unknown mesh,
never knowing if I was coming or going.
Indecision had not been my lifestyle;
never knowing if I was coming or going,
I would become entangled in an unknown mesh
wandering through the orange mist of day.

another

SONGS OUT MY WINDOW

‘Tis another break-of-day that comes,
skies still semi-dark as I am awakened;
beautiful birds sing just out my window.
The bright orange globe in the east slowly rises as
beautiful birds sing just out my window,
skies still semi-dark as I am awakened;
‘tis another break-of-day that comes.

*The Jozzonet is Dutch form of poetry that contains an odd number of 
lines with no rhyme, no word or syllable count. The middle line of the 
poem functions as a "mirror" for lines above and below.