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L T Winter
Poems
Aug 2015
Suckling on the Footprints of Midnight
There's more singular saplings
Reading violet dandies
Instead of make believe
-Manuscripts
Where voids
Live in non-existence.
-Mountains creep slowly,
Towards the sun
While trees trample-
Moons with footprints.
And I--I feel stuck-
Suckling quicksand
From beneath my bones.
-Waiting for midnight
To catch away,
The rain.
Written by
L T Winter
M/United Kingdom
(M/United Kingdom)
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L T Winter
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NV
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strawberry fields
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