POETRY

for the solitary soul

Photo by Freddy Kearney on Unsplash

Your very presence,
changes everything.
Potentials and propensities
merge, mould, into:
he is not a fixture,
he is a fitting
in my world.
She flutters, flings, flummoxes,
acquires the shape of the word.
Eyes sparkle —
as I burn the last volume
of poems.
Eternal signs sigh over the ashes.
Letters tell of nightmares,
stone slabs become monster-statues
created by a disturbed pattern…

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John E Marks

John E Marks

506 Followers

I will try to express myself in some mode of life or art as freely as I can and as wholly as I can