His Awl (or Comet’s Tales)

October 12, 2016

Comet’s rubble’s dance is dark

In the deeps of space and ken

Bygone second chances come,

Yet, around again. 

Life’s sphere’s orbit’s faithful

Round Giver of all light

Past moments blazing one by one,

Flitting through pitched night.

Mind’s eye’s vigil’s restless, now,

While regret’s night whispers sail

Cold flint of earth’s first heaven met

His awl piercing dawn’s veil.


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