SAD EYES

Sad eyes, sing on.

Sing for the ears of morning

so that they may

know this beauty lost to light;

the longing in

an arid cry before springs

caress the dust

and mute a thirst-fed spirit’s

wordless sighing.

Children skirt the edge of dawn

dancing gaily

on ground where a dark durge lay

wounded, silenced,

formless in the palor of

naiveté.

4 thoughts on “SAD EYES

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