Withring fingers writhe into my scalp,
Blustering wind dances cooly around my face,
Bare callouses crinkle the dead carcases
Of leaves that lay on the desecrated ground.
The path I seek is long and winding and endless
And just out of reach
of my vision
That falls before the feet
of dusk's cooling emanation.
I raise my fingers to the heavens
As the bodies swallow me whole.
I know
I am lost.
YOU ARE READING
Time Slips
PoetryA poem I wrote for a loved one and a bunch of poems about lots of things.
