A MOURNING MORNING

The breathless air is full of shadows…

And birds fear to breath, beady eyes drift hollow…

The wrought sky swoons and drops in drops, liquid dreams…

On drumming, drowning earth, bleeding forth little streams…

Over sad crusted feet, flung careless in muddy grief…

The day dawns darkly, slow on the heels of the lunar thief…

Caught on that beaded diamond line, where tears end and the rain begins…

Everything shimmers and shivers, frothing with dim, dark sins…

Oct 20, 2012

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About feminemdapest

I love words and how beautifully they can be woven. I have a wicked sense of humor and a mind like a sponge, so little gets past me. As a result, I have a garbage heap of a head. Did I mention I love words?
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