An Enclave

Poem By Sandra Fowler

I leave you my abbreviated dusk,
A patch of blue upon a distant hill.
Fog fingers write my feelings on the glass.
Those urgent words once set the bones alight.

Friend, let that once be powerful enough
To hold time's shadow to its measurement.
West's fated slant across a million roofs
Creates an enclave worthy of itself.

Previously published, 'The International Library Of Poetry'

Comments about An Enclave

Always different... always captivating... always excellent... and of course, always Sandra!
does time's shadow have a measurement? will you find out & let me know. abbreviated dusk. fog fingers. kisskiss. sjg
This beautiful poem taps our memories and captures a treasured mood that escapes our total comprehension. Very much an enclave.
A truly beautiful poem that opens the mind.
Awesome! I enjoyed reading this poem.


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Other poems of FOWLER

(1) Before The Music Ends

Words paint a fragile picture of the dusk.
I think them to a poet far away.
The light shines dim upon my windowpane.
A few tears fall like blue rain in the mind.

(1) Afterthoughts

Words will no longer come from you to me,
Handwritten from a land of minarets.
The imagery still lights my afterthoughts,
I wish you a long sunset, poet friend.

A Smoke Picture

Hands dream to trace the sculptures of old trees
That stand like dark wainscoting to the light.
Thickets of wordless poems capture thoughts,
Paint lowering moods upon gray window glass.

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The moon is lemon light, November cold.
The wind is blowing colors all apart.
Old leaves are writing their last signature
Upon the dimming windows of the world.

(1) A Friendship Bridge

You made me love the teachings of Tagore.
My thoughts were mesmerized by your sitar.
I kept the little flowers from India,
Artfully pressed to span a century.

A Cricket Sang Good Luck

I sat against your knees all night.
I watched the sun rise in your coffee cup.
In all that time you never spoke to me.
I think I must have cried a thousand tears.