Poetry and Prose

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Mr. Quill, you look parched. Care for a drink?

The End To A Drought of Song (revised fall 2009)

Feathered blade in jealous scabbard
For so long idle at last unsheathed
Sharpened quill in hand of zealous bard
Silvery speech by muse bequeathed

Basalt glyphs like black waves flow
Thunder as they crash and churn
Carving cliffsides with inky blows
Running wild ’til the pages burn

By |October 12th, 2009|Poetry and Prose|