What Lit Our First Days Poem by james watkin

What Lit Our First Days



All this seeing, sun-strewn
Dust-flecked, duskier
One atom of old shining's
Mirthful inducer.

Left cold of its Time-setting
As for what does faint
For an inspired vision
In a virgin saint.

Sunday, December 30, 2018
Topic(s) of this poem: memory
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james watkin

james watkin

Melbourne Australia
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