154 Poem by Morgan Michaels
154
The sky is an encrypted silver table
set with candles and ghostly bangles;
weaving mischief all the night long.
Winds and gaunt predators,
haunt the courtyard.
Sunday, October 28, 2012
Topic(s) of this poem: skies
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4/23/2024 2:49:00 PM # 1.0.0.1119
short and sweet... great imagery!