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BLACK WATER,
An Adaptation of a Fassbinder Theme
Water in the forest, terrible black water,
A pond over rot and dead leaves,
You lie silent, quiet, you, you stay still,
Unmoving, yet the storm rages around the wood,
In the groves pines lean and nets of spiders,
They are torn apart, and then splintering begins.
You, in the hollow, you, you rest, black water.
Branches fall, leaves scatter,
Bark peals from trees and flies all directions at once.
The wind rips all that stands, the grove succumbs.
But nothing reaches you down there, black water.
Showing posts with label wind still splinter storm Stanley Pacion Love poem braches leaves scatter. Show all posts
Showing posts with label wind still splinter storm Stanley Pacion Love poem braches leaves scatter. Show all posts
Saturday, December 4, 2010
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