Yawning pupils let light in,
Unwrapping shadows by opening bars,
Once closed and reaching to the window pane.
When able to come in, light,
Bathed and flowed into his dist- filled room,
But his hand shielded the sandy confetti,
And the light hung over.
The luminous paper guided
His pen, and he drew;
Birds whittling air with sharp treble,
Rivers ringing stone chimes passed,
Over.
A contest entry
- Become a Favourite! by BabyBun.
400 points, ended November 3, 2008, 47 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
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Hi - thanks for entering my contest - I enjoyed this. Best of luck!
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