My dear Cicero
The glorious written word
Delights my soul, too
Seen outside Bellingham’s Village Books.
Category: Poetry
Within destruction’s song
within destruction’s songs
lie the call of rebirth
phoenix’s prophetic
return from the flames
oblivion
Summer’s Evening
In the park’s silence
Evening’s calmness filling it
Summer’s light fading
Perhaps
Perhaps I cannot
Change much in
This broken world
Where cynicism
Valued more
Than compassion.
Perhaps.
Tuesday
A beautiful day
The sun is shining outside
And viri crush me
Innocence
Innocence’s core
Deep into the abyss
Consumed by our longing
Willing sold for love
A fair trade?
This Past Weekend
Step away from “life”
And mania’s strange comfort
Learn what is worthwhile
A View to the West
Night’s rest is now done
To the west, sunlight, water
Cold, deep, cruel
Blank Pages
As night is falling
Blank pages are calling me
Capturing my heart
Morning Glory
The sun long since rose
Morning faded with the mist
It’s glory remains
Carl Setzer: Word Shaper 