Herbs

By Emmanuel George Cefai

herbs
herbs of magic nights
there be the foot-print
of the satyrs who
trod upon you whilst
piping hot they had
the pitchers in their
hands
feasting the night
before the Dawn struck
where be they now
now
that the day be swinging
full?
Now that the sun arisen
warms and smiles?
Where be
the civilization of sadness and
sub-conscious beauty?
where?

This Poem Features In: