Poems

Dusk Actually Can Be Crazed

Trivial day is dropping in the west

while the curved and fragile surfaces

of eight bell peppers ring the sunset down.

On a slant of guy wire, eight doves

arrange the notes to moan the day’s refrains

but will the worm spare my bells until

I rise to watch them glisten in eight hours?

 

~ S.K. Orr

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