Fog of the morning gone by midday

Or dreams forgotten on awakening

Stand as memories only in a field

Of carved totems swiftly been

And to turn my head and try to grasp

A moment now in past is worthless

When the green leaves scatter south

And stole no second glance at me

Uselessly I wept with bitter anguish for

Chance and opportune are threads that

Wind a double helix never crossing

As East can never meet the West

I was made to think of eagle spirit

And mindful owls contusing softer plume

Others claimed a peacock swagger that

Could quash the doves ascent aloft

But truly none could catch the pair of doves

In their rising flight above lands of long clouds

Shaken to their foundation and was it eyes or mind

That saw an onyx beauty, flesh or fabric?

Surely none can know of one when Earth

Has spun but twice or thrice yet maybe

‘Tis no different to those whose sun

Has set a thousand times anon

So I drift above a tired midnight sea with

Salvaged stores in mind’s eye left unspoken

And maybe we pass like ships in the night

Unbeknownst, our homes at different shoreline

For you were rare as flowers in the Antarctic

And maybe for a moment someone saw you

And maybe in that moment it was I,

I who saw you and did not fathom

What it was I felt when two sides

Of the same coin locked eyes but once

And who was I, unworthy to observe

Such graceful treasure, such a rare and precious jade.


Published by P. S. Clinen

Official website of Australian author, artist and musician, P.S.Clinen. He has published two novels - Tenebrae Manor and The Will of the Wisp, as well as the illustrated poem A Boy Named Art. His most recent release is a poetry collection Vignettes - An Anthology. All of his works are available to purchase on Amazon. He has several albums available on Bandcamp and other streaming services. Check back often for more by this author, including poetry, short stories, new music and other updates.

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