Pax

Pax

Dusk falls like peace,
a pause, a breath,
baigné dans la rosée
de l’espoir,
avant la nuit.

Peace falls like dusk,
slow as sand sifting,
langeur de la lune,
douceur d’une rose,
closing petals in sleep.

Author: Jane Dougherty

I used to do lots of things I didn't much enjoy. Now I am officially a writer. It's what I always wanted to be.

8 thoughts on “Pax”

    1. French is such a good language for poetry, but it’s extremely precise. Why I only write very short things. This new crop of writers in English couldn’t cope with that idea, that each word has its meaning, and you can’t change it, misplace or misspell it Ignorance is not an excuse, it’s practically

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      1. It’s a very subtle and flexible language, but it’s a double-edged sword. Too many people think that gives them carte blanche to ignore what the words mean, or don’t even care to find out. Anything goes. It’s like that for far too many things.

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