The VisitBenjamin Miller
Like falling kites, the night came in a rush Of feathers just outside her window, garnet eyes Outlined by swaying trees. Pewter-slow, Her throat contracted. Darkling wings unfurled. Beneath the pinning sheet she shivered, knew The door-latch was elusive, almost cruelly Insubstantial. Soon the curtained glass turned Delicate; the clock's hand, catlike, Stretched and flicked a paper tongue. Before morning came, a tapping.
Benjamin Miller Read Bio Author Discusses Poems
|©copyright 2004-2023, No Tell Motel. All poems ©copyright the authors.|