by on June 5, 2019 :: 0 comments

Here in this morning’s morning
self-forgotten sullen twang
comes a star gilded and silver,
climbing still like the pine
branches tipped with needle-
frantic green, yes, caught
like a tiny chip on the great
waist of some spectre surface
emerging into the dissolving dark.

– Askold Skalsky

editors note:

Such a star to pluck… plucky star! – mh clay

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