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Poetry Magnum Opus

glass moons


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Sleeping rough on Whitby beach,

I woke after my sanity expired.

Three ghosts started a fire

and taught me how to make glass

from sand and flames. I had to

juggle glass moons as an audition

for the afterlife, I managed to dodge

knives of fire hurled by the three spirits.

We made a crystal ball to watch the people

of Whitby's nightmares come to fruition.

From haunted exhalations on the flames

a glass ocean was made for our journey

to the next life, I kept a moon to

light our way.

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Larsen M. Callirhoe

absolutely awesome poem that is very multi-layered. the methaphors speak to me spiritually and physically.

much enjoyed the read!!! thank you.

 

 

 

victor michael

Larsen M. Callirhoe

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David W. Parsley

Definitely another score. A significant poetic voice is gathering force here.

 

- Dave

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Larsen M. Callirhoe

amen to that comment dave.

 

 

you said:

"A significant poetic voice is gathering force here."

 

 

victor

Larsen M. Callirhoe

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