Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Sep 2015
Ball of bone and feather in the dew,
I surprised you when I pushed the door
For first smoke of the day;

The glass air, cracked beneath your wing
As you hopped onto a wet fence to sing.

And I, without the least music,
Breathed poison against
the morning’s blue wall.
Gareth Spark
Written by
Gareth Spark  Whitby
(Whitby)   
465
     --- and ---
Please log in to view and add comments on poems