The azimuth.

The azimuth.

A Poem by andrew mitchell

While the arc of the rainbow
was bisected vertically
through an axis
slicing the dreams
of memories yet to come;
on reading the azimuth,
the thoughts projected
brought no pot of gold
as the pendulum
swung right to left
deciding.

© 2019 andrew mitchell


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no pot of gold...but maybe the hope for one to come in its own time?

Posted 6 Years Ago

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1 Review
Added on February 4, 2019
Last Updated on February 4, 2019

Author

andrew mitchell
andrew mitchell

adelaide, Australia



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Strindberg said. " When I come home and sit at my writing table, then I live.... I live, and I live in manifold fashion of all human beings. I depict; I am glad with the glad, wicked with the wicked,.. more..