Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh
Black, tiny dots.
Leaping and dancing
In the wind.
Rustle, rustle, rustle
Green, fragile cloth.
Gently unfurling
In the wind
Swish, swish, swish.
Scarlet dotted on gold.
Swaying and blowing
In the wind.
Rattle, rattle, rattle
Brown, hard and dry.
Shaking, and rattling
In the wind.
Shoutout in my next chapter for the first person to tell me what this is 😊. -MissUnicornGirl
YOU ARE READING
Pulvis et Umbra
Poetrywe write our stories on the silver black clear canvasses of our lives these are my stories i build them so you can relate and perhaps we won't be so alone *** "I really love these poems. They help me find myself in worlds where there is no one lef...
