Perfection of Barefeet Poem


When the music fades
Grass turns brown
Dew refuses to fall
Turbines grind away dust
Dawn intermingles with dusk
Black opera sounds at the touch of violins
Maestros dance
Dinner shaved into tumulus creations
Dotted laughter cakes of clay arms folded charging bulls
Dust rising from a forgotten graveyard airs up the tunnel
Must be the heartbeat of a lion
Poetic justice amidst courts of insolence
Specks of snow drops in an Arabian dessert
Sand dunes whistle comfort
A fair damsel caught in an 18th century war
Wolfs howling at a darkened moon
Songs of Solomon beat at a cave
Serenity dead yet not gone
Bare feet on wet earth
The perfection of it all

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© Chaotic Soul of a Poet
Maira Gall