Poems #111 and 112: “First Contact” and “Erato’s Kiss”

First Contact

Looking out the viewport,
I see a forest of tiny green
fronds with thin, leafless
stems and featherlike crests
standing silent vigil, as if they
are toy soldiers arranged
for a battle long forgotten—
or about to begin.

© 2015, all rights reserved.


Erato’s Kiss

She wore a gown of raven wings
wrought from broken feathers,
and warbled like the sparrow sings
in bleak and cold December.

Her song befell a troubled man
that dark and dreary midnight,
and left behind a haunting strain
that plagued him through his life.

He called to her—again, again—
longing for an answer,
but she did not return to him
that maiden lost, his sweet Lenore.

© 2015, all rights reserved.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s