Saturday, October 18, 2008

Drops on golden wings

Dreamflies often
rise and flood reality
Shielding what is
with gold wings
and cricket-type sounds
piercing a hole into
a well of imagination
where words swim
free of prey and bait

Drops of war, hate, pain, and greed
rain green, red, and black
There is an echo
of pitter patter
on this golden curtain
but only a few words shudder

Photo by GirlsEyeView on Flickr
Prompt for Sunday Scribblings

1 comment:

paisley said...

the silent beauty is often the only one we will remember... this was lovely....