the rose mill
poetry and essays of peter graves roberts
Friday, December 10, 2010
tidal
...thunderous
were the sounds that
set upon us,
like a hurricane of
stampeding,
beautiful and furious angels,
wearied and impatient from
protecting the bliss-less ignorance of
this lesser race of being.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Newer Post
Older Post
Home
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment