Poem #288 from a series of poems drawn from the imagination and collected as: a Bachelard reverie.

Back to Bachelard and me – Introduction

the stars have drifted off
and wandered
like so many
tiny migrant boats

on a wide black sea

listen to their song

go – o – going

they sing of going

the night
is a sky-sea
filled with travelers

they are going
so far
they are going

© Frank Prem 2018

Bachelard and me Poem #289: forest I

2 thoughts on “immigrants

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