Friday, November 26, 2010


a chamfered nib
making its way
across the paper

it leaves a trail,
makes its path -
narrow and wide and gradual

it plays with nature
it plays with form
it works magic

the ink - following
its progenitor
walks a baby clenched to mother

it ceases time
for eternity
the parchment remains


Short Poems said...

Lovely write, you play with words so nicely!
take care

ecstatic shimmeR said...

thank you for dropping by. feels really good that new people read my work. sorry for the extensive delay on the reply.