Autunm eats its leaf out of my hand: we are friends.
From the nuts we shell time and we teach it to walk:
then time returns to the shell.
In the mirror it’s Sunday,
in dream there is room for sleeping,
our mouths speak the truth.
My eye moves down to the sex of my loved one:
we look at each other,
we exchange dark words,
we love each other like poppy and recollection,
we sleep like wine in the conches,
like the sea in the moon’s blood ray.
We stand by the window embracing, and people look up from
the street:
it is time they knew!
It is time the stone made an effort to flower,
time unrest had a beating heart.
It is time it were time.
It is time.
End of the poem
15 random poems
- Spring poem – Lord Alfred Tennyson poems
- A Portrait Of 1783 poem – Andrew Lang poems
- About Face poem – Alice Fulton
- Colors by Stephen Vincent Benet
- The Child Is Father To The Man by Ted Hughes
- Robert Burns: The Birks Of Aberfeldy:
- The Dunciad: Book IV poem – Alexander Pope
- Why?
- Vision by Siegfried Sassoon
- The Grasshopper
- Off Mesolongi poem – Alfred Austin
- The Hawthorn Tree by Willa Cather
- WALKING INTO YOU by Satish Verma
- On The Death Of Mr Crashaw
- Robert Burns: The Rigs O’ Barley:
Some external links:
Duckduckgo.com – the alternative in the US
Quant.com – a search engine from France, and also an alternative, at least for Europe
Yandex – the Russian search engine (it’s probably the best search engine for image searches).
