Caravan

It seems to me from years of grace
that the best poems come out of the night.
They softly, swiftly descend
on wafting leaves with starlight glistening.
They never guess nor ever look back.
They mince no words and pour images
that tingle in the heart like flowing wine.
They reach forth from before time
and travel from their origin
like the khabir leading a long awaited caravan
of treasures ’til then unguessed and ever unsurpassed.

About ktrammel

Author of Gathered Rain, and Between the Hours, which can be found on Amazon. Read more on my sites, Flowerwatch.net, or sophilos.net
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