This is a poem I wrote on New Year Day 2010. I hope you enjoy it. All comments and opinions appreciated.
the encore that holds no refrain
in the ambiguity of black sheep
Tortuous intuition is woven down
the silent hill through the
padded grass mattress and its
border with the rock people.
Creeping tendency to flush the
ravines with acid reign,
their dictatorships are gone by dawn,
leaving no trace but the first
beginnings of mothball.
The sedaned couple relish the
subdued tacitity after their play
as the last tint of eventide
wafts into the midnight air down by