Coming - loosely - after an exercise in Mary Oliver's handbook, Rules for the Dance


Winter is Nigh


the cold eats my bones
leaves fall in a bright gold maze
dark day of rain has left
and night is here too soon
a dog howls near a fence
gives a thought
to the source
of its croon
while the moon
falls past the crest
out in the dark
which will pass
while the cold eats my bones





Poetry by Eli The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 627 times
Written on 2010-05-23 at 12:30

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