How many stories does the moonrise retail, Waiting for dreams to pearl-inlay the detail? Night's mysterium awaits The lute, unplucked, patient&. 5 Dark becomes a color too obvious To see among looking's over-crowded oblivions. Free dreams on an inner eyelid lie, Straining to detach and enter a sky. The dawnline's a focused loss 10 Of potential, definition scrimmed from nothingness. Here's an horizon razored from space, The finned edge of a pit or a grimacing face: Over the edge go dreams, lutes and dusks, Long shadows of an improvised mask.
From the collection "Supposing Roses"
Written by Gregg Glory [Gregg G. Brown]
More information available on gregglory.com.