It is a whispered space

My marble vigil

Where sunlight’s shadows dance

On empty stone cloisters

An angel waits transfixed on a walled garden

And I shift effortlessly into summer

Under a doomed roof

She cries bathed in soft air

What does she see?

Staring from forlorn eyes

Scribbling hands with pure intention

Tears fall on the soft, caramel carpet

For it is time

To depart this whispered space.

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1 Response to Ark

  1. Mary says:

    I always picture an ark as being a place of refuge, but I feel the torment in this particular ark. At the end there is a departure, and I would guess it would be for the better… escape.

Thank you for reading my poems. Please don't feel you have to comment. I enjoyed writing them, I hope you enjoyed reading them, Be blessed.

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