Stopped

A Poem by Leslie Philibert

A toenail of a moon,

slightly turkish, hides

in a dusty aquarium

and stops my knees.

We frozen are blind

beyond November.

We dead are actors;

pullers of dogs and leaves,

rootless as the wind.

My grief ? Spooned out...

I halt under the night.

My Review

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I love the description of the moon in this interesting piece.

110 Views
1 Review
Added on November 12, 2018
Last Updated on November 12, 2018

I`m not important. I just want to write a couple of good poems. Just read what I write. That`s enough. more..

Steps

End

Heliotrope