Sung Upward

Shiningly staid,
Unmindful of its
Penetrating lance,
The moon tonight is a
Silver blade,
With which you've
Cut this quintessence.
Above it endures,
Pathless ice
Glazed with defense:
The same
Staring device
I should have used
When you came.
Sue Skipwith Flagg
[ 205 ]

Structure

16 lines · 1 stanza