A boy stands with a broom in his hand,
the jazz’s prayer glows in his face, though all is quiet,
the first laughterspring has come
like a whiteness.
Sorrows sail
further
into the new that waits
incorporeally,
into this tangibility march.
(Gunnar Bjorling-other)
More Poetry from Gunnar Bjorling-other:
Gunnar Bjorling-other Poems based on Topics: Faces- "I want" (Gunnar Bjorling-other Poems)
- "I took joy's meaning," (Gunnar Bjorling-other Poems)
- "There shall be a retching from the heart" (Gunnar Bjorling-other Poems)
- "Dead people marching" (Gunnar Bjorling-other Poems)
- "It dance it laughs a pink lackey" (Gunnar Bjorling-other Poems)
- "My lips are rouged" (Gunnar Bjorling-other Poems)