Styx
by Robin Ouzman Hislop — Read all 170 poems by Robin Ouzman Hislop
Tuesday, January 31, 2006
white trefoil in a starry way,
a laurel wreath, rape of leda
& the swan's song is no more.
as if, a new morn should spawn
again, as a faun upon the lawn,
as hawk, bird, worm gets dawn
& the riddle of me, dark lady.
invisible yet, at my own alter,
unfathomable in question there,
in the mirror’s pool as you pass
to appear through an isle of glass.
in a dream that's without scream
& faces lost sown in night’s seam.
Sage
Love this river journey to the great beyond. Masterfully expressed to say the least...
Peace and Blessings,
Carolyn