Some Poetry


Running east ...
    from the west,
you circle about all
    that you know,
swallowing your tail;
    a serpent's grip
you clutch the earth
    and won't let go.
Choked with desire,
    tear creased gale...
Stop! let the son
    pierce the soul
desire, swollen,
    sullen, withdraw,
until you taste
    the breath of God.

Wm.W.Wells – May 19, 2005

Copyright © 2005 Wm.W.Wells.