Monday, February 4, 2013

Confusion

Steel grey clouds
conceal
the arc of the sun,
the passage of time,
until I am 
confused
whether it is
morning
or
evening.

Good night, dawn?

Good morning, dusk?

2 comments:

Linda B said...

This is very fun, Bridget-& so true. It would be a good one to share about the 'little' observations we can make in writing poetry!

Bridget Magee said...

Thanks, Linda! It was one of those poems that burbled up as I looked out the window yesterday. Thanks for stopping by. =)

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