I’m just a vessel full of spectral dust
From all those years of wandering alone
I am a weed, invincible, among red roses grown,
Sort of ingenious, but causing just disgust.
I am all art. And art, you know, hides
In secret places, kept from prying eyes.
One has to be bold, daring and wise
To recognize me in my grim disguise.
I am the wanderlust that comes upon a soul
Lost in the middle of a weary windy night
And as I step out of the window on a flight
I turn into an ancient astro-owl.
I am all art of lust compressed into a sunbeam
That, piercing a shallow morning sky,
Disperses fears and makes sorrows die.
And you wake up. And start your next daydream.
19/02/2023
I am not Walt Whitman
© Copyright: Нина Вольга, 2023
Свидетельство о публикации №123032205236
Свидетельство о публикации №123032205236
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