A Hunger

lucaso

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. 

  • Author: lucaso (Offline Offline)
  • Published: July 2nd, 2017 14:12
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 25
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Comments +

Comments1

  • FredPeyer

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



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