Bright blue skies, as clear as the pitch-black night.
"it stormed last night."
A draft drew into her yellow hat removing it slowly yet gracefully.
"why is it never clear."
she stared while gazing over each of her fingertips,
feeling the cracks of wind slip through.
Then looking to the warm sky.
As leaf's turned light amber all around,
brushing along the side walk to the gutters.
Like a tumble weed blowing in the east.
At last, the sun turned to a blistering shine to her locks of gold,
and crimson eyes of fire.
"thus, we are a heart to the world of recollection.
Yet we bare the torture to continue from the rue on the past that dwells beneath us.
Not knowing of whom shall be crushed under the souls of our shoe.
no!From dry to sunken to the breath dark deepest,only to be swallowed whole......
Each breath is a quiver escaping from the heart.
We have the forgotten at the sides of our shoulders.
Side by side. Those who fallen and have those who do not flaunt the beauty that they are.
Only to be mice that hide from those who takes advantage.
we must hold the ground,
after the rain.
Glistening from tattered to drenching
leaf's of our window....
forever more."
YOU ARE READING
poems
PoetryI start off with a sip of wine and a look to the world around me..... I feel so small for my feelings that feel so wide.
