The fireflies ascend
like divers in the dusk.
They breach the surface of
the evening, tip dark's husk
to spill seed-shadows sharp
as angled stars. Time crawls
through some uncertain depth.
The twilight lifts. Night falls.
like divers in the dusk.
They breach the surface of
the evening, tip dark's husk
to spill seed-shadows sharp
as angled stars. Time crawls
through some uncertain depth.
The twilight lifts. Night falls.
An excellence! This is at least the second poem you've written in which you describe stars as "sharp" (am recalling "Landscaping at Night"); I cherish both poems.
ReplyDeleteAnd yes, I checked your scansion--perfect trimeter!
Thank you, Thomas!
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