Lost, Moreover, After Midnight Poem by james watkin
Lost, Moreover, After Midnight
What does it mean
To be me?
Tree, wind, sky - anyone!
Owl, wise-eyed?
To each, loud addressed, if
Inner cried.
Moon, from down off
Beam, bedewed
Passing angel wing-dipped
For sympathy?
By God, at least, clear see
I'm not rued!
Monday, March 6, 2023
Topic(s) of this poem: muse,midnight
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5/2/2024 4:47:12 AM # 1.0.0.1119
