September 2014
- Details
- Written by: Stephen Bailey
spring pathos —
a poem strains against
its string of words
- Details
- Written by: Stephen Bailey
long white cloud . . .
how much more lonely
must we become?
- Details
- Written by: Stephen Bailey
death bed vigil . . .
his mind fingers through
beads of sweat
- Details
- Written by: Stephen Bailey
iambic throb —
the slow black trochee
of life-blood
- Details
- Written by: Stephen Bailey
scented night —
a moth enters the hush
between stars
- Details
- Written by: Stephen Bailey
midnight stroll
beyond the back-chatter
of the universe
- Details
- Written by: Stephen Bailey
the milky way
stretches out its wingspan
of indifference
- Details
- Written by: Stephen Bailey
inland sea . . .
the sound of a siren
turns my head
- Details
- Written by: Stephen Bailey
mid night
all the stars out there
mid way from the past