Monday, January 19, 2015

Llyn Clague


Dead of Winter 

An old oak, black
against an eider sky 
A thousand stark twigs
stab the sodden cloud
Skeletal bones of wood
await the far tomorrow
The sun’s drenching tide
and fresh amber marrow


Against Despair 

I awake
with an ache in my heart

I seek
to break out in poetry

to escape
the sorrow at my core

to create
the joy so hard to embrace 
awake

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