Night Walk With Wordsworth

The book slips

off the chair. I follow

its impromptu dance

 

across the floor

though Debussy’s reverie

has taken me on a night

 

walk through meadowpatch

deep in colour

recollected in tranquillity

 

a cerise magenta

of a once full

salvia moon reflection

 

Copyrighted by the author

 

3 thoughts on “Night Walk With Wordsworth

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