Tell Me Where To Start

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Do We Have A Choice

As If We Could Change The Day

An Empty Hanger

Roll Up the Morning

The Birds Gather Now

October Project Poetry Contest Honorable Mention: Morrow

Morrow

I, behind fallen tree, hear bittersweet elegy
As many pass through the dark mists, pained
So I set in mind, distorted portraits in time
Like Clarke’s icons of Poe and glass, stained

Transcended smile and wait, while we consecrate
Our incongruous fumbling to grasp what is gone
For grander than memory is the soul’s swaddled beauty
The douse of a candle, the first gleam of dawn

– Victor Azotea