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Chris
Poems
Jan 2019
Two Hands
Earth sound
Memories of big bang creation
Cremate the moment
It was born
With these words
Meant for earth worms from soil
That you can't ever seem to find
With hands dry
Emptiness of holes burrowed
Searching to be continued
Wait for the rain to come & the days after
Two muddy hands & a full bucket
Constructed carry of warehouse machine
Plastic pellets & hardened beads....
Feel free to post what you think this is about.. Thank you to everyone that has commented , liked, loved and or viewed my writing
Written by
Chris
34/M/San Antonio TX
(34/M/San Antonio TX)
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Tanya Louise
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