Purveyors of fine poetry since 2003.
Rain.
I got up early.
I was deputy to trouble;
I could not talk.
A place other
than the void tonight?
I go out without
any qualification.
Doubt will be
the end of me.
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Tuesday 13 March 1659/60.
Dave Bonta (bio) often suffers from imposter syndrome, but not in a bad way — more like some kind of flower-breathing dragon, pot-bellied and igneous. Be that as it may, all of his writing here is available for reuse and creative remix under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 4.0 International License. For attribution in printed material, his name (Dave Bonta) will suffice, but for web use, please link back to the original. Contact him for permission to waive the “share alike” provision (e.g. for use in a conventionally copyrighted work).
Oh. It feels like a pared-down and terrific Hafez.
Oh really? Awesome. Thanks!