A lonely hermit
Contemplating his purpose
futile, he has none.
*
A delicate bloom
Trapped in an autumn grove
Silently weeping.
*
A distanced figure
A barren plain, in converse
A broken silence.
*
Unwavering will
A conquered mountain peak
The earth at my feet.
*
A pool of light tears
A mere drop in a night’s storm
The ripples, faded.
Copyright Romy Neale 2014
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