Wednesday, December 6, 2017

Weekly Haiku / Short Poetry

Night unfolds me
two empty hands.

What does a dreamer do
when night pulls her gray-black curtains
across the milky rays of a half-nail moon
and all the broken hearts beat in tandem
to languages undecipherable in sadness,
old friend and nemesis, the two-faced sun
to my unrequited, bi-polar dreams.

1 comment:

  1. The dreams stands and stares and waits for the sun to rise.....


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