Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
May 2018
My eyes reveal
the soft dust particles
floating on beams of light
playing on the cracked,
vined bricks,
Flowering on waves along the wall,
conveying on the stretch of broken stone,
winding on the bubbled pains to the wooden frames
natural blinds serving their purpose
my eye flitting to the top of the wall
a forest, growing
into the light.
Antonyme
Written by
Antonyme  14/M/6 feet below
(14/M/6 feet below)   
239
       Megan Parson, ---, Rick and ---
Please log in to view and add comments on poems