Tuesday, May 17, 2016

Beneath the lampshade

Silhouettes dance across
dusty and dull lampshade,
the expensive vintage ornament
flickering on and off,
and under its waning cast,
the shadows come alive,
those convincing remnants of light
playing through its gossamer veil,
hiding the bruised nakedness
in diaphanous dusky chambers.
Wandering thoughts sway gently
in stuttering light, like moths,
and burn with passion.
The rising smoke inks the drapes
with poetry.


  1. Loved it, Ruby! I especially love how you've compared wandering thoughts to moths. I think that was spot on.


Since every thought is a seed, I am looking forward to a delicious harvest.