Pink edged clouds in the west
\nHang over the sun-scoured shoreline
\nBirds debate the eleven degrees of perfection
\nA laker chugs down ominously
\nSullen bands of fire smoulder in my hips and calf,
\nDebating the seven levels of Hell
\nWith my numb toes. The wonderful poem
\nThat I thought I wrote and which resounded
\nThrough my head much of the night
\nIs not on the page, but fades into the background
\nOf birds, thudding ship engine, and sunrise.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Pink edged clouds in the west Hang over the sun-scoured shoreline Birds debate the eleven degrees of perfection A laker chugs down ominously Sullen bands of fire smoulder in my hips and calf, Debating the seven levels of Hell With … Continue reading