Tacit Beauty
Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem
Where mountains aren’t, the world is still the world.
There may not be the white of peaks or harsh
Escarpments, but the streams of spring are swirled
Along a flat-ish plain to fill the marsh
With February meaning. Whispered spring
Without grandiloquence of daffodils
And Tidal Basin cherry blooms will bring
The universe to focus, fewer thrills,
That’s all. Canaveral will have pale shores.
The only mountains in this view will be
Gigantic burgeons, clouds so white that wars
wallup.net
Might never happen. Seminoles might see
A way to peace with men who unlike them
purple red sapphire
Have seen purple bright blasts on red bud stem.
