Slow, Slow, The Verses Flow -
E
Emmanuel George Cefai
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Slow, slow, the verses flow -
the water murky turned in to the river
and dense and loaded it moved so and so -
it was a sort of Styx - yet burned not -
but
rather chill under the drear winter heavens
flowed discontented and unwilling:
so
my verses flow, do flow, but slow,
crawl in the violet light of a waning day
But they had their time too - let me say
and so
slow, slow the verses flow, this dusk.
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