Autumn stipples the leaves.
Orange and yellow and white lights
shine onto the scrim
through glass gobos
and colored gels.
Beam breaks dust,
and shadows dance behind the fog.
There is a blue bulb
naked behind a cage
and it looks kind of happy
in a sad sort of way.
I think it wishes it could see the tree.
Thursday, March 26, 2009
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1 comment:
This is beautiful...
I too love poetry, and wrote some this past Monday as I saw a homeless woman searching for food.
BLessings to you
Kringle
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