Wednesday, July 22, 2015

copeland morris BALAO

The rain and shadow of raindrops, tinsel curtain,

Refrain and shadows
Of raindrops fall.

The gone man is a thief of all to be certain:

Shangri-La, Balao,
The Fillmore, Dreamland.

He could fill them up now; his fingers fly

Like redbuds, crepe myrtle,
Whipped by the wind.

He meets his love on the little square in Balao.

An owl endowed
With tender hoots,

A tiny shiver, watches their awkwardness die.

copeland morris ENTWINED SONNET

Her shaded eyes, her necklace black velvet, onyx. Anguish she spoke; and he carried on, obsessed As only a young man could. An odd harm...