There Goes the Sun

A poem from the new collection On Driftwood and Oblivion

Shall we go now, for later it should be too hot
Eclipse the stars, traverse the moons
Leave all behind, take nothing but the plot
Under the watchful eyes of your baboons

Your place setting awaits, a table adorned
The silver chalice, your glowing mind
Your raging river smile, now empty, forlorned
The tombstone ramble of humankind

There goes the sun again, perhaps the last time
The savanna thatched outstretched fingers
Longing too, a little like an uncommitted crime
Only the remnant dying star that lingers

Ever struggling…

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jscampbellwriting Posted on

Poet and Author.

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