A Tryst Poem by Windsor Guadalupe Jr
A Tryst
A dry spigot
Fractures itself
As the knob is
Turned in such a taut
Counterclockwise.
Beaming out,
Luckless with
The flightless birds
That perch atop
A harried mill
Stationed over the breathing
Serrated grass.
The sunlight scurries
Toward the ebullience of
The prudent fields -
A tryst witnesses the
Clash of beauty
And grotesquerie.
Saturday, January 7, 2012
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4/27/2024 6:43:38 PM # 1.0.0.1119
