In the half-light of my perpetual autumn where the bleak greys and fading browns dulled my sight, a shining, golden bird landed on my hand one day and sang a song that chased away the dying day.
You will tell me the secret path to this remote place where the change of color occurs. Tell me you will... as I'm left with ashes and the only "song" I hear is the scream that would come out of Edvard Munch's famous painting.
"and sang a song that chased away the dying day"
Very beautiful.
Charlie
Reviewed by William Cryer (Reader)
Reviewed on August 27, 2007
Have you read that most compelling story about the nightingale written by John Crowley? "The Nightingale Sings at Night" One of my favorite stories, and provokes tears every time I read it. For some reason your poem evoked reminiscent feelings. Lovely.
Selected poems from previous & forthcoming collections together with Q&R apps on each page to enable audio rendition simultaneously with the written text
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Lovely caress of a poem.
Axilea
Very beautiful.
Charlie
Ron
Be safe,
Karen