My cloak is woven starlight, bending
time and light and memory–
a recollection of origins, place, kith and kin
that were and are, but are no more.
Mnemosyne, mother of the Muses
cradles me and whispers in my ear.
Get up! It is time to move on.
24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
My cloak is woven starlight, bending
time and light and memory–
a recollection of origins, place, kith and kin
that were and are, but are no more.
Mnemosyne, mother of the Muses
cradles me and whispers in my ear.
Get up! It is time to move on.
I think about time travel a lot, and your cloak imagery is inspiring- like an invisibility cloak, but so much more!
I love the alliteration in this line”Mnemosyne, mother of the Muses”
maybe use even more in this poem?