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Black Hole
April 13, 2016
Dusty, raw edge trickles with tumultuous rocks
Crumbling, they crumble as wings into the sweet tasting river;
Water gushes and flows and sings nature’s tunes
and the harmonies begin, quivering like soft fairies,
in the midst of the trees.
The dark hole ravishes a moon in a wholesome night,
the blackness hulking, consumed, it lives as a death,
It dies a life as the sun rises up amongst the clouds again
and hails a new day;
Breaths whisper through the rustling trees
and none can see the vision but me.
© Xiao H., Naperville, IL
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