We go under dark stars
and call it a long night.
We go under dark stars
and say the moon is bright.
We go under dark stars
to find a sleep that’s light.
We go under dark stars
into rain that’s made of glass.
We go under dark stars
on a road that’s shining black.
We go under dark stars,
they’re in our eyes, they burn our heart.
- Mark Mordue
4 comments:
The conceptual reality of your poem is too beautful.
and the beauty of the Creator's creation...a lot of which we don't see at the moment...is sooo beautiful too don't you think???? There are quite a few different 'eyes' in the Universe!! ;) :)Anne
Definitely a browneye!
Too confining....Horton hears a who
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