Free Verse
As the Stars Coo (After Reading Rilke)
Lit Up — Writing Prompt: Distraction
Published in
Apr 29, 2021
I spill into the warm evening
hair and wind forming anarchy.
Long abused by containment,
grown parched for the tide in
darkening blue heaven,
auburn and silver mantle reach
as erratic feather (act upon dreams
to fly), but I’m distracted greatly
–wooed by tender tempting voice
circling the moon,
an almost irresistible cooing
out the temple of stars–
and do not mind this little rebellion
before a storm.
©jef l littlejohn 2021
