https://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/2018/03/24/wordle-344/
Distant music draws
Holy veil over night;
Stills its spinning dish—
That barely discerned
Hum before rain;
Strums silvered strings
‘Mid silky-brushed patter—
A haunting balm’d song
Which can’t fully soften
Pain’s sharp-toothed truth
As it saturates souls
Already lost at birth;
And shields like a sieve
Their broken shadows—
Soaked through, stumbling
‘Neath street lamps…
©Pax & Co., 2018. All rights reserved.
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