Wednesday, March 19, 2014

Poetry Blues

La Lune

The only moon I see tonight
is hidden behind tall
bricks of clay.
The air flows like
turqoiuse water of fiji,
like the moon
it fades from my sight
but it watches over me like a dream.



Untitled

The moon enters
 the water
fills it with
ink
from the sky
the earth waits


The moon

The moon sits
white in the sky,
like a stain on
a green table cloth
like the lace of a Ghanaian bride,
Like a fire
burning.

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