Poetry is a sigh
It is a palace
A place on the hill
Near the sea
Poetry is two hundred years old
&
Older
&
It sighs in that place on the hill
On a world
Sometimes
Rough
Tough
Trying
Crying
It
Sighs
&
Breathes
In a palace by the stars the moon the morning the meadow-sea
- -
A Vivaldi Pastorella