False Morning

by Matthew Kenneth Kosak

Sometimes the last remains of light

On a high peak, rose colored, on dead snow

Is inspiring like a false morning

You think it’s coming, and it’s almost gone

You think it’s gone but it’s almost begun

I thought you’d left, but that was before.

Advertisements

Leave a comment

Filed under Uncategorized

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s