Thursday, September 26, 2013

The cantruptist

I see a night songbird
in the breaking of the day;

A child of the moonlight,
a stranger to the morning;

He sings notes of pale hue
and haunting tones of wail;

Un-blinded and taught by night,
he is drifting on his benighted voice;

He is a glinting star in the night
and night songbird in the morning.


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