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The night is young tis fair in the crickets silent song alates that come after summer rain rushing traffic splashing brown water —my socks are soaked; wet toes, and cold shiver's marathon in a running nose My head pounds like a child beating a drum Undisciplined, uncontrollable buzzing like bees making a hive of my thoughts choked words by the feelings above my throat Clouded mind, to now be feeling grey it's grave to me to dig up my past Clearer skies, exposed skins, and parent shoutings, about playing where ringworm lie in grass The scent is sour; heaven tears left on the soil—bending a flower the silence ends here, but it will again rain another hour
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Dec 20, 2022
Dec 20, 2022 at 11:59 AM UTC
Evening rain
The night is young tis fair in the crickets silent song alates that come after summer rain rushing traffic splashing brown water —my socks are soaked; wet toes, and cold shiver's marathon in a running nose My head pounds like a child beating a drum Undisciplined, uncontrollable buzzing like bees making a hive of my thoughts choked words by the feelings above my throat Clouded mind, to now be feeling grey it's grave to me to dig up my past Clearer skies, exposed skins, and parent shoutings, about playing where ringworm lie in grass The scent is sour; heaven tears left on the soil—bending a flower the silence ends here, but it will again rain another hour
#rain#evening
OddOdysseyPoet
Written by
OddOdysseyPoet
27/M/Zimbabwe
Dec 20, 2022
Dec 20, 2022 at 11:59 AM UTC
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