Eloie imagined —
A plucked harpstring’s shimmer.
Opaque clouds across the moon.
Spreading wings.

How far again, is the distance?
Light years and seconds.
A thought.

Elysium, though, is getting crowded.
A dance of saints having found a limit.
Eloie, imagining, moves on.

About wkhardy

A long-time teacher, woodworker and musician who is now writing some ideas that have incubated for forty years -- ideas about WHAT SCHOOLS REALLY SHOULD BE!!!! And now, November of 2015, I'm posting poems and song lyrics from my book -- Once There Came A Thought.
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