So with the lamps
all put out
the moon sinking
over a dark horizon,
and a thin, cold rain
drumming on the
roof
beginning
a downpour of immense
darkness.
it seemed
nothing
could survive this flood
this profusion of blackness
creeping through keyholes
and cracks at the windows
stealing under doors and
into bedrooms,
swallowing up every shadow,
every sharp edge
until the house
itself vanishes into
the sheets of darkness
driving through
the winter air.
Genre
Notes
A poetry writing assignment--taking a piece of Virginia Woolf's writing from To the Lighthouse, and casting it into blank verse, with variations and substitutions until it becomes my own piece.
This is lovely. You have such
This is lovely. You have such a distinct way of writing, and I love that it comes through. Your poetry is always divine, and this is no exception! I just love the way you describe things. It's not easy to do, but you make it look so effortless, and it's such a joy to read. Thank you for sharing!