The garden's green grass was still wet
Like a sensation of old memories under my leather boots
Watching the landscape through the rose bushes
Red gems falling into the savage stream
Smell of pine needles scattered across the freshly churned soil
They crack under my soles
Shudder under the sunlight beam:
Moonrays on warm rocks
And the drifting smell of smoky fish on fire.
But then, the feeling retires
As the morning comes to rise
And with it the end of you
But the blooming of early dew.
YOU ARE READING
purple wounds
PoetryChapter One: Glimmer of Hope (purple wounds) In her song Sweet Nothing, Taylor Swift said: "On the way home, I wrote a poem You say, 'What a mind', this happens all the time." This quote defines exactly what you'll find in this collection. Several...
