Ancient spirits dwell eons
between fluid and ether
in spaceships of bone,
poised below the sepia mirror,
breaching to breath the sun,
leaving only fleeting ripples
that mingle like silent harmonies.
Related Posts
Voices of the Air
But then there comes that moment rare When, for no cause that I can find, The little voices of the air Sound above all the sea and wind. The sea and wind do then obey And…
Change on Change
Three months ago, the stream did flow, The lilies bloomed along the edge; And we were lingering to and fro,— Where none will track thee in this snow, Along the stream, beside the hedge. Ah! sweet,…
Disputed Tread
Where she steps a whir, Like dust about her feet, Follows after her Down the dustless street. Something struggles there: The forces that contend Violently as to where Her pathway is to end. Issues, like great…