A broken shadow moon
within his silent memory,
descending into the engulfing
blue flame
a rising scream
to pierce through,
an agape
emptiness
goodbye,
imaginary
tender times
Enshrined Poetry
The toil and the beauty, rest in these lines. A poet in the night, quelling my feign voice.
Hollow October
5 responses to “Hollow October”
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And what is welcomed in their place?
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I don’t know yet. The imagination will never truly leave in general. I would cease to be an artist if that happened.
But this particular moon shadow felt real and innocent in tender times. But now just might have been an illusion.
It corresponds with my poem
Illuminated Moon Shadow I wrote last year.LikeLike
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I see, that phrase; we are more than the sum of our parts springs to mind. Energy never really dies, it just transforms into something else. Great piece!
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Enshrined Poetry 
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