Colors


Sienna burning at midnight more
shapes transparent birds dancing
in dark shadow feathery chains
dissolved in French turpentine.

Memories of old Istanbul
breaks at the turning back
with fallen minaret singers
and tales of political unrest.

Man made evil in a sand box
playing corruption's face
with sunglasses and one rule
preparing for mass selection.

Paine's grey wraps the trunk
to the wild winter night sky's
throbbing light of instant prey
and the wolf is in my heart.




Poetry by Bob
Read 477 times
Written on 2006-12-11 at 23:36

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Saga
A wonderful comparision between colors, evil and the gathering of the wolves!!!
2006-12-12