See
earth fill cloth
Hear
ditches in still trickle
Hamstringing Fate.
Waiting three Sundays
Breaking nested dusk ― Cracks
Opening the drum ― Cracks
Frozen solid wells ― Cracks
Making torched night paths there black-clad birds dances
while the moon bites caress inside a Windkissed harvest
Lifting,
pressing land and mountains home to Godan blood
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Author:
1 SIGFRIDSSON (
Offline) - Published: October 28th, 2023 08:51
- Comment from author about the poem: Taken from the book AS ONE by 1 SIGFRIDSSON.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 0
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