Array ( [sid] => 176471 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => The fever [time] => 2013-07-07 17:23:29 [hometext] => Sunrise [bodytext] => Short and sweet is the dawn,
bringing heat to damp earth.
The expense of the day spreading out.
Where is the dusk, is it in my eyes?
Between the fabric of sinew and tissue.
Thoughts that.Stop.And.Start.
Starry eyed hearts.
There is birdsong and money for now.
No better, no worse than anywhere.
Is this luck?
There was a better dawn I remember it.
There will be better dawns I swear it.
Somewhere they will see it, better than i ever could.
For now.Dreading.
Daydreaming I widen my eyes to see the bleeding of the sky.
Run the razor of my tongue to dry lips, waiting for waiting, anticipating.
The end of all things, night and the passing. [comments] => 0 [counter] => 87 [topic] => 64 [informant] => Tferguson [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => ambiguous ) Your Poetry Dot Com - The fever


The fever
Date: Sunday, 7th July 2013 @ 05:23:29 PM AEST
Topic: Sad Poetry

Contributed By: Tferguson
Short and sweet is the dawn,
bringing heat to damp earth.
The expense of the day spreading out.
Where is the dusk, is it in my eyes?
Between the fabric of sinew and tissue.
Thoughts that.Stop.And.Start.
Starry eyed hearts.
There is birdsong and money for now.
No better, no worse than anywhere.
Is this luck?
There was a better dawn I remember it.
There will be better dawns I swear it.
Somewhere they will see it, better than i ever could.
For now.Dreading.
Daydreaming I widen my eyes to see the bleeding of the sky.
Run the razor of my tongue to dry lips, waiting for waiting, anticipating.
The end of all things, night and the passing.

This poem is Copyright © Tferguson


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