Simulatlng

Light materializes into forms

From where knows who ,

There is nothing 

Only something once was gone, remains

Sifting the lifting fogs of,

A lost, retreating gaze

Falls upon all the wrong ways 

Paths may be crossed and crossed off of

Days write themselves it seems as it appears

So mirror sight, so always here,

Blank, uncanny page;





Poetry by Chaucer Whethers The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 52 times
Written on 2024-11-03 at 05:13

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