lucaso

A Hunger

I scalp the ridge which sustains my existence 
And gauge the cushioned rose from it's root, 
Antediluvian nails in death's suspense 
Whom floods with darkness eternal loot 
In stuccoed succour of a pine's sustenance, 
Digging up rusty soil which heats and clogs to soot
These stumps I amble on as I un-earth each sense — 
And once familiar, animations of the Soul 
To a knotted pole, where the winds swallow an empty bowl; 
I scalp the ridge which sustains my existence 
And gauge the cushioned rose from it's root. 

Comments2

  • Candlewitch

    hello,

    the repetition of the first two lines really made an impact at the end of the poem...very well done!

    always, Cat

  • FredPeyer

    And still we amble on.....
    I do like your poem. Thank you.



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