Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Mar 2012
Late at night,
My blue smoke floated
Away; running from solid things
Like jars, that would hold me.
The red pulsing sky
Throbbed meaningless tremors
Before being swallowed by the midnight blue.
The chevron path
Of my blue smoke
Is haunted by antique kings.
Written by
Jackson Jones
802
   Ivie and Marissa
Please log in to view and add comments on poems