They are the last romantics, these candles; Upside down hearts of light tipping wax fingers, And the fingers, taken in by their own haloes, Grown milky, almost clear, like the bodies of saints. It is touching, the way they'll ignore
A whole family of prominent objects Simply to plumb the deeps of an eye In its hollow of shadows, its fringe of reeds, And the owner past thirty, no beauty at all. Daylight would be more judicious,
3 comments:
Very strong image but what is it?
Looks like the Anzac Bridge to me ... am I right?
Yep ... this is the ANZAC Bridge.
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