Poetry Is Not

Sunny Meadow

Poured from a word bottle

Or decanted from a

Morning of dew

Or dipped with silver nets

From streams of golden fish

Or distilled from

The last star’s shining

Before dawn

But rather

Blocked piece by piece

Fragment by fragment,

A mosaic of

Half-remembered dreams

A tapestry of forgotten imaginings

And a weaving of

Lost desires.

 

Dan Verner

April 5, 2017

Leave a comment

Filed under Uncategorized

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s