Eveningsong

Eveningsong

Slim sun-edged thumb
Of Roman brick

Umbered, undone

This late valley dozing
Under a late spring sun

You still want what will not last

Still before the blue
At evening, sound, come

*
(this poem originally appeared in Oxford’s halfcircle poetry journal, Issue 2)

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2 comments

  1. Cavender · · Reply

    “You still want what will not last”

    The human desire for certain ephemera that feels significant and poignant at a specific time.
    “Nothing ever lasts forever.”
    It is sought, worth having, yet so fleeting.

    Lovely.

    1. Yes, indeed…thank you

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