Lord, my head is

bowed, arms stretched

across the narrow floor.



The tumid wind

rose, spread like

night, & waves fell & ashes.



Slowly I’m

spent & time dries

my leaving.

2 Responsesso far.

  1. Mark Prisco Mark Prisco says:

    thanks Peter. Yes. I must leave an asterix or something after my last line: “Please follow and like us” is not part of the poem

  2. peterlebaige peterlebaige says:

    Has the feeling of an icon in an orthodox church, for me, amico, or rather of being trapped in the frame of one, ‘the narrow floor’!

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