Wednesday, October 10, 2007

Island

When you speak,
           I hear the poetry
           of Keats and Rumi.
When you laugh,
           their muse of angels
           sing through me.
Now your memory
           is an island
           on the sea of silence.

           (rev. 12/30/07)

1 comment:

  1. Evokes an echo in me from deep within. Beautifully done!

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