No moon
To light my way upon the stair,
Cold comfort
In the wine I drink alone.
Black clouds,
Rain,
The hurried flight of birds,
Water flowing grayly
In the dusk.
A rising storm,
Boats tugging at their mooring ropes.
Or sails full-spread
To take advantage of the wind.
A moving point of fire
In the dark,
The distant lantern
Of a passing boat.
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Comments
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I like this one too. However, because there were several different images, I had difficulty stringing them together into a cohesive whole.
. Rewarded 4
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The timeless bleak serenity of this poem is amazing. My first thought was that it was a modern piece and then I checked the date. 12 centuries ago!
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