Wednesday, May 18, 2011

In the Garden of a Dead Poet.

Fern fronds bend in the arbor
Sunbeams filtered green
A misty air beads on your brow

Had the poet known
This quiet delicate peace
He might not have shot himself

Troubled minds seek the dark
If only he had been here with you
He would have seen this light

© shaun patrick green 2011

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