Dec 11, 2020
1 min read
Varnished Muse
A Poem
The little night light
you always bring with you
the one in the shape of the city
it flickers and doesn’t
seem to like any one glow
But you were silent about it
not deigning to speak
from the depth of your wooden coffin
the feet so tired of being called on
to walk between strife
and the dropping of erratic balls
Carried from place to place
in dying hands
from the lit nucleus of the water tower
to old Nellie’s house at the…
