I Drink To The Sun
Mad day flags crackling in the dawn the sharp intensity of drink dentelleries thrown over the mill fire sun and candlelight and at midnight I squeeze the juice of the silver fruit of the moon into the red glass of my heart. I drink to the Sun who lies concealed in his bed under the sheets of night. In the morning he will rise like a Red Indian to run his marathon across the sky.
Harry Crosby
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Poem topics: fire, heart, moon, night, silver, sky, fruit, rise, juice, morning, sharp, thrown, indian, Valentine's Day, glass, dawn, red, sun, drink, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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