Blogging Poetry

Bolts of Silk

Those Angels above.

When We reach

for the sky,

veils to breach,

reach and try.

Gossamer.

Bolts of Silk.

Angel? Sure,

and Her ilk.

This playground,

through that veil,

the Horn’s sound,

bids Us well.


© CGT, 2017.

Is this where the Angels play? Who knew I could see them from my backyard?

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