By: Peter Tsai
Nights On Parallel Lines
matriculate into the sunset with
dimes and nickels lauding the
inconspicuous moon; its ethereal aura
shedding moss in the gaping
mouth, mother of night, mother of—;
tingles the wind chimes go as
the holy baby, the sacrilegious child,
speaks like hot sun; and it waxes nostalgia,
the knolled soldiers disappearing into
ghost memories, holy as is whole...;
time is right, time is gone,
mellow flashes of green on the open trail.
Brief Repose From Upon The Moon
I.
Iridescent lilies glimmer to the arched tower—
back and all—
singing posthumously to the convalescent stars
hiding behind it.
Ashamed it was: waves crashing between edges,
waxing and waning,
interludes of the symphony.
II.
Dancing children dance: twisting vivaciously
in between the letters,
laughing a when and who.
Should the dusk fall, glistening in between
the streetlights of the orchestra;
careful one must be before starfall.
Peter Tsai is an aspiring writer and poet who currently resides in Coppell, Texas. He is a high school junior who has previously been recognized by the CLAM. Besides schoolwork, he enjoys pursuing the art of poetry, community service, and spending time with his cat.
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