Part nine
Snake eye days blink and staywhile I, as it were, open the window
and call out for more.
The New York winter still echoes
in this relentless heat.
The diamond finds itself in veils,
the luring light insists,
it is so much more than an urge.
The day's dying dance is tempting,
but no harness nor maidens in fords
of cold crystal water
can put him back together again.
See me! See me not...
A puppet, run by mortal needs
and dreams of total magnificence.
No one spoke out.
Poetry by Bob
Read 1055 times
Written on 2010-04-03 at 09:08
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