The Moon-Pulled Sea
S
Sheena Blackhall
0
Altın Yaprak
Dreaming at midnight by the moon pulled sea
Dark pebbles mouth their melancholy tales
Each one has crossed the Rubicon of death
Has known the keening of the ghosts of whales
The sucking sand drags shells to the unknown
Sinking like coffin nails in the dead day
And thought rolls over in the bone white mind
Nudged by the shroud of sea mist and tide spray
Bu şiiri puanla
Henüz puan verilmemiş