Wednesday, March 26, 2008

Burning






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:

Marjorie Savill Linthwaite said...

The conceptual reality of your poem is too beautful.

Anonymous said...

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

Anonymous said...

Definitely a browneye!

Anonymous said...

Too confining....Horton hears a who