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Mac
01-04-2004, 03:26 PM
He spoken in his native Indian tongue
but she was kind and translated
that I might come to understand.

His words rocked the soul
dancing in a distant firelight.
The shadows reach even the moon
nothing is left untouched
not even the essence
of undead souls.

And for a moment I could see
a white translucent buffalo,
grazing content in the middle
of a grassy knoll.
But that was long ago,
before the laying of concrete
and our eyes filled with tears.

ascension
01-06-2004, 02:53 AM
really wonderful

Poeticpiers
01-06-2004, 05:44 AM
You captured well the concrete soullessness of this modern age ivor