Tuesday, 7 August 2018

Space

A poem from 1976

faster than rockets or rain
I travel
through darkness, turning turning
I am a moon
in an empty sky
the stars are dull
in the blackness, burning burning

little round world
spinning on
hurled
through endless space
among a million dark stars
the small world spins
I am a light
too bright
to dream

No comments:

Post a Comment