Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
 Feb 2021 Michael Stefan
jordan
and the years fall away
like pages torn noiselessly
from the skin-bound book of my life

and dropped from a magnificent height
they flutter samara-style slow
lighting upon the dusty hardwood floor
like feathers piling up softly, silently
as they clutter the the library of me

and i sift through the pages
scavenging for gilded gold
but instead i find only me
and for once, that is enough

and for once, i am enough







.
samara: the winged seeds of a maple... (helicopter seeds)
Next page