Old, Shadowed Wit

by Kevin Sampsel

Stone crumbled or split
By slow marching time
And the serious whine
Of old, shadowed wit
Impresses, like wine
Or the careful design
In some chemist’s eye
Could never quite hit.

Heaps, mountains of earth
Tower higher than words
Of sullen old worlds,
And even though terse,
Nature lets loose
Simple, elegant curls
Of beggars and fools,
Of rhyme with true worth.

Sprinkling of spells
And histories for sale
Ever whirl and swell
Like blood splattered pearls
As shadows play games
And fully unfurl
Upon gazes upturned
And gleefully twirled.


Kevin Sampsel grew up writing poetry and fiction in East Tennessee. He currently makes his home is Norfolk, Virginia. His first book of poetry, Vibration and Swaying, was published in 2012. He blogs here.


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