Elegy to a Lost Morn…


the morning blessed
in fluid graffiti poetics,
bursting as photon sprinkles
from a rising sun
stretching aureate limbs
over vain breasts of blue hills,
sighs a fragrant aubade
over the dozing landscapes.

lurking vestige
of crescent moon on azure,
is like a lingering dreamy sigh,
a faded arc of eucalyptus skin
glued over splattered acrylics,
the pole star glows
like winter’s orphaned ember,
a radiant beacon of relentless hope
or just a voyeur eye
of the long erased inky night.

the lemon blossoms
freckled in sparkling dew shake
wet faces to dry citrus petals,
night jasmines wither
to salt grass blades in perfume,
and frangipani with
glowworms fisted in sublime depths
seek to adorn morns in smiles.

but shriveled as
a muted, sepia autumn song,
its garrulous words
replaced by placid silences,
the morn of honeyed benedictions
is tainted in pollution’s fumes,
bruised and smudged,
its purity blasphemed, molested
as a virgin’s chastity,
by callous talons and fangs
of a bedeviled, haunting phantasm,
she is a lost dream
yearning for rejuvenation,
from indifferent faces…


One thought on “Elegy to a Lost Morn…

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