22
Feb
Posted by jasonstaroftheeast in Uncategorized. Tagged: air, angels, beach, beaches, bells, blog, blogger, blogging, born, breath, breathe, breathing, cape, cove, dance, dancer, dancing, dark, division, dream, dreamer, dreaming, dreams, dust, envy, field, fields, forgotten, frost, grass, green, halls, light, linger, lingering, longing, mingle, numbers, one, outside, poem, poems, poet, poetry, poets, pollen, resting, shelter, soft, theater, theaters, theatre, theatres, think, thinker, thinking, thoughts, tomb, touch, voice, voices, wall, walls, white, wind, winter, wood, write, writer, writing, yearning. Leave a comment
pollen lingers in the air
like the dust of angels
resting on a field of forgotten numbers
born of long division remainders
in a tomb of winter bells
no longer sounding
we are far from frosted white beaches
far from the capes and coves that shelter
here is where the voices mingle
in the windless halls and old theatres
just outside the walls of braided grass
green with envy
alone in the darkest wood
and breathing…
just breathing
-Jason Cyrus Akhtarekhavari 2/22/13
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