Posted in Poetry

star searcher

Hounds are racing; horses are galloping,

She is running up on the hill so steep bedraggled

Panting in staccatos of fleeting hopes

for her star that someone stole away.

So she runs up on the hill again and ever

Till she finds her lost star.

Author:

I write stuff of my interest that does not interest anyone in my blog. No grammarians, no copy editors, no marketers, no cynics are welcome.

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