We who with songs beguile your pilgrimage / And swear that Beauty lives though lilies die, / We Poets of the proud old lineage / Who sing to find your hearts, we know not why ... (James Elroy Flecker)
Showing posts with label octain. Show all posts
Showing posts with label octain. Show all posts

8.1.24

Missing


‘Will no-one find me, no-one come

looking for me on this cold night?’

Her mind despairs. The stars are bright


but cannot lead her back to home.

Her way is lost. She drifts: a ghost,

a shadow, vague as mist or foam –


believing nothing can come right.

Will no-one find her? No-one come?



Based on a news story about a missing woman, and her last few posts on social media.



Form: octain