wind caressing his breath
riding through snowy minefields
gravel crumbles under iron hooves
liquor embellishing his footsteps
dripping notes into rippling hair
jingling trinkets soothing book pages
a brisk kiss glancing by
while a handkerchief is patched into a dress
fluttering with the thunderstorm
fringes bowing to coppery lightning
he disappears with the dusk
porcelain vase of ashes
scattering
with the fan of a hand.
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Author:
fkoshk (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: July 4th, 2022 06:22
- Comment from author about the poem: Must be nice to be able to act as carefree as you wish. Really nice. You only live once, so it must be pretty dumb to wish for it to end, huh? It would be nice to not have to care about anything.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 14
Offline)
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