Saturday, June 27, 2015

The return of the Muse

i see mistletoes, i see brown leaves,
i see you

you are a cobweb over my eyes
i see through you.

you are the pinwheel that fans my mind.
i write sonnets.

you are the first breath of my morning.
last of my night.

you are where time lives, next to the moon. 
you are my neighbour.

i wait for you.  i die a bit before
The return of the Muse.
_________________________

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