Tuesday, March 10, 2009


Islands of ice.
Electrical veins at night
silhouette brave borders
and slender shores. Stages
of yellow boards to play
the jester or the king,
while leviathans patrol
gulf streams and Catalinas
painted midnight-blue
hunt the darkness for Shelley's
monster preserved on a floe.


Anonymous said...

I read this briefly last night, but time was not there for me to leave a comment. So I am BACK!'Oh no' you say. Ha!
Who is 'Shelley'; Percy Shelley? If so I am going to have to read more of this chap to maybe understand your words better.I am thinking he was crazy/mad though and if he was a Poet then no doubt he was!
I fall in love with your words each time I read you. You open windows to my Soul and I like this one, you.

persephone said...

Mary Shelley's Frankenstein