The Muse

(An International Journal of Poetry)

ISSN 2249 2178

 

Volume-3                                                  June -2013                                              Number-1

 

Lost

by Dawnell Harrison

Moonlight licks the back

Doorstep eaves.

 

Shadows whisper

In the deep dark hole

 

Of the night.

Lost in a black space

 

The roses bleed the

Backyard red.

 

The night swallows me

In a quivering circle.

.................

 

Autumn grows cold
by Dawnell Harrison


autumn grow cold,
water-hooded mother.

mornings diffuse
into  somnolence.

the sun fires too late
as the moor laments.

frost thickens on the grass.
the gift of plenitude
has no house here.

..................................................