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Brandon
Poems
Feb 2012
The Sun Has Yet To Rise
Frost bites the early morning air
With slight sentiments of late October chill
The stars twilight in their abysmal obsidian oblivion
Exploding supernovas in a heavy silent achromatic chasm
Gnarled swaying branches of the ancient corkscrew willow
Lashes about with a fevered frenzy of demonic intent
Howling coyote wind whips wildly
Lacerating frigid frost-bitten animal skin
Numbing and chilling both bone and marrow
The sun has yet to rise
Keeping its warmth concealed
For a few hours further
Written by
Brandon
On the edge of your taste
(On the edge of your taste)
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