Wednesday, October 26, 2016

Sarah St Vincent Welch #286 shun night

shun night, my mother
day has caught a dark dreamer
dawn and bird call cries before the rise
a lost chick a wing in a trap
blood on white feathers
the words writhing on a screen
blaring noon the notebook measures
the astrolabe curls back

tall shadows of twilight
all this day
a dream rises and throws its déjà vu
over the sun


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