skies fold,
pinched like a bedsheet
in the softest of greys -
a morning sickness
that's weightless;
how the day lifts
and the sheets come away,
shedding like plaster
for light that's early, peach.
-
Author:
Ryan Robson-Bluer (
Offline) - Published: August 8th, 2022 10:25
- Comment from author about the poem: capturing a moment while the coffee brewed
- Category: Nature
- Views: 20
Offline)
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.