the last lost sound..

a poem by Dale Costello, Australia - poetry writer, author, poet

nothing is real
there is no light left
to steal
no black hole sun
no echo from the round
I'm a rabbit on the run
through this silent field
no garden no more
fills with sound
he's gone to ground
than the sky
he's the reason why
I came this way
to begin with..

the moment surreal
as it steals
rain from our cheeks
from the peak
of mountains crossed
and the last lost
sound in my throat
love as it floats
free of its rusty cage
and sage
my hero Chris.

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