Translucent
Brown blobs
Seen through the thick foliage of veins
Hover at the edge of vision
Frosted over with age
Once a spring green
Now a deep
Hospital-sick green
Above those eyes
A jagged cliff of a brow suddenly rises
Yellowed sweat tracing well-worn paths down the surrounding craggy face
Beading the grey parchment of that wizened visage
As if in some crude form of decoration.
YOU ARE READING
Drifting Thoughts
PoetryThoughts drifted about my head No longer to be contained Spread forth across the paper Spilled ink.* *Yes, that is reference to another of my pieces; it amuses me, so why not?
