I like this poem for the clear picture it returns to my mind. My question to you: what happens for the reader? Picture or puzzlement?
NIGHT TRAIL
A line of meteors
crashes through sky roads,
upending hideouts,
scattering lovers
and loners.
Many miles above,
the author of disaster,
I adjust my headlamp.
Marvel
at the glittering eyes
of spiders.
NIGHT TRAIL
A line of meteors
crashes through sky roads,
upending hideouts,
scattering lovers
and loners.
Many miles above,
the author of disaster,
I adjust my headlamp.
Marvel
at the glittering eyes
of spiders.