It's Still Life

Lucid Porcelain

I.
Dawn is breaking
in the bower. The stars are gone,
and first birdsong fills my ears.

II.
The sun lifts
morning’s endeavour, returning
ghosts that roam forever.

III.
Sunlight so slow to rise,
trembling on horizon’s rim.
A mood that weights the tides.

IV.
Leaves wet with rain,
dreams in the way of night, annals
of time that slip by faster.

V.
Pumpkins carved
and fires glow, those who lived
come and go. A feast we’ll make.

Poem form: Cadralor. Some artwork is created using Midjourney AI, and is identified as such in the ALT text or captioned. Images are copyright and not to used without permission, which I willingly give when asked, and when not for commercial use. Imagery and poems/prose ©Misky 2006-2024.