What stars sought so far?
May 21, 2024
“What stars sought so far? What flowers fathom?
What soothes scornful scars on souls lying numb?”
A priest intoned, reading a pagan lore.
“What low, leaden sky wearily withholds,
to pound drops of dread and crack thunderbolts.”
A gust sighed, carrying damp petrichor.
“What drives the moon to dwell on desolate lands?
What leaves dew to withered petals bereft of fragrance.”
Moon moths from the casement implore.
