Wake the Moonlit Sky
Poetry
Published in
Oct 26, 2020
Stretched six feet apart,
some words break hearts before the ink runs dry,
and the empty page sits in quiet rage,
backspaced, unwritten letters, never seeing light of day.
Pain, in absentia,
more potent than fear, fire, water, magic sorcerer,
even poetry,
stealing stars from a steamy night,
to recuse the darkness,
unable to wake the moonlit sky.
© Connie Song 2020. All Rights Reserved
