Slow red aura ignites horizon
Like infection around a wound.
Bright intenses-until it rends
Sunbeam beckoning morning tunes.
All shadows pale in the birth
Of this same infant day.
Night chill fails as the earth
Is basked in the holy rays.
See landscape colors revive.
See the new hope crying
For this day yet barely alive
Paints too the colors of dying.
Oh for days of bettering sunrises
Ones that will not slowly die.
Days brightening without catharsis
That enraptures beyond every lie.
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These poems posted this month so far are all older ones...mostly from my very early 20's...they show a less mature, more innocent individual... often wracked with good old protestant guilt. Feel free to skip any of these if you are looking through. Most of the newer stuff is much more interesting. I thought I'd post them all here just to keep the collection more or less complete. I have more to add that were never typed up...and I may or may not do so in the future.
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