In and out again,
There is silent music -
A tapestry of
Stirring shadows.
{Concealed by rain,
The stars begin
To burn through
The sheets of clouds.}
Footsteps on snow,
The curving shore,
A garden thrives
On the fragments
Of my mind - all beautiful,
Bountiful, and free.
{Divided by blossoms
And bones, I follow
My elusive dreams, stealing
Their breath & balance.}
The waxy night air whirls
In my hunted footsteps,
And shapes skittle forward,
Star black and luminous.
At the threshold of ending,
At the title of a final hand,
Stolen arrows snake
Through the grass,
Broken with a symmetric
Heart & shattered by me.
YOU ARE READING
Someone Like Me {Poetry}
PoetryWith power there come words. And with words there comes music. And with music there comes joy. And that's why I write poetry.
