Slanted square of silver light
Stars falling through glass night
Myriad noises, house creaking
No heartbeat but a hand ticking
Dark hush, smell of suspense
The hour is late, the quiet is tense
When all starts— broken apart
By a cuckoo in the dark.
© 2012, Elizabeth Cook
| Heart on Fire |
Thoughts, Stories, Poems
Un poème n'est jamais fini, seulement abandonné. A poem is never finished, only abandoned."Paul Valéry"
The Poetry of Emotion
Read on, it's good for the brain.
Scientist by day 🌞 poet by night🌛// business inquiries: huffinesc16@students.ecu.edu
My Own Paradise: Life on Seven and a Half Acres
Serial Outlet 