Sunday, 5 January 2014

Daily Diary by Michael Keshigian

All day,  
every day,
through the night
while you sleep,
dust floats upon airy parchment
to silently describe the moment
and soon
another page is complete.
Early, when it’s quiet,
the faint sound
you think you hear
is a streak of sunlight
that sings
the chilly dawn breeze
into a story. 
Even snowfall covers
a page of barren countryside
with white ink,
transforming blank to verse,
rain erases most mistakes.
On a bright day
you may catch hand shadows
swirling fair weather fonts
into words
in front of the sun,
creating a gust
that inspires leaves and twigs
to choreograph the landscape.
When the inkwell runs dry,
the rattling pen resounds
a thunderous clap
and the dark hand pulls
upon the spigot moon.

Michael Keshigian, USA


1 comment:

Karen said...