Sunday, July 11, 2010

POEM: Shadow

There is an outline of myself
A shadow of what always escapes me
About myself
Not good or evil, really.
Unknowable parts that move,
From which spirit ebbs and flows
Into the world then edging back,
Then into the world once again.
Parts that point to a deep, deep well
Parts immersed in untelling black.

0 Comments:

Post a Comment

Links to this post:

Create a Link

<< Home