Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Sep 2022
The waning sun at the end
of a dark withering tunnel
light bends forward to reach me
it stretches toward my shadow
lapping away at its depth
and obscuring the distance.

I continue on,
aware that I am miles away,
allowing myself to succumb
to the utter delusion of my
astigmatic mind.
The sun is going down,
and I will not return tonight
Elizabeth Zenk
Written by
Elizabeth Zenk  19/F/Getting There
(19/F/Getting There)   
153
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems