Evening Primrose…
M
Mark Heathcote
0
Altın Yaprak
Happy the hour between
Night and death
The pause, taken:
To a single living breath.
Here, I'll open my breast.
Upon moths calling
Like an evening primrose
Where sacramental-wings
Consecrate
The first-dewy-lit morning.
Bu şiiri puanla
Henüz puan verilmemiş