Hymn To Black Mouse

in praise of cold
beauty which cares
not whether one
suffers, cares not
that the mouse may
suffer, and the dove,

that the mouse,
objectively,
its black fur,
is magnificence
very soft, it
appears without
shine as does the
ice shine in
severest beauty
sear (now I know
the flash sure was
that of a tail, is
neither light nor
shadow, nor is an
occasion for blindness
as is the snow

or silence)

poem by Warren Falcon
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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