Stopped

Stopped

A Poem by Leslie Philibert

A toenail of a moon,
slightly turkish, hides
in a dusty aquarium

and stops my knees.
We frozen are blind
beyond November.

We dead are actors;
pullers of dogs and leaves,
rootless as the wind.

My grief ? Spooned out...
I halt under the night.

© 2018 Leslie Philibert


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I love the description of the moon in this interesting piece.

Posted 5 Years Ago



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1 Review
Added on November 12, 2018
Last Updated on November 12, 2018

Author

Leslie Philibert
Leslie Philibert

Bavaria, Germany



About
I`m not important. I just want to write a couple of good poems. Just read what I write. That`s enough. more..

Writing
End End

A Poem by Leslie Philibert