Night Stroll
I embark upon the silhouetted
Silvery Grimshaw landscapes
Of leaf strewn paths
Paved with cool moonglow,
This music for the eyes moves me,
My retinas listening intently to
Seeing sound through the stillness,
All at one with nature.
Just me in the world
At this time and place
Kept secret,
As if I was never there,
But suspended in eternity all the same.
Then I remove myself from the painting
Hang it back on the wall
Suspended in a space that once held me.
Maturation
It was September, see,
And summer had sullied into
The sound of falling leaves
Down to a swishing breeze
Bringing a peacefulness to shorter days.
The condensation set in between the panes,
Like the mists rising above the rivers
That flow from themselves
Before being lost
In the union of the ocean.
Bionote
Anthony tends to fidget with his thoughts in the hope of laying them to rest. He has managed to lay them in a number of establishments, including Shot Glass Journal, Jerry Jazz Musician, and CommuterLit.
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