Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jan 2013
Pendulum on pause,
gallows raised over the bridge.
Air still, threatening voices, overspent applause,
Approach the oak,
trembling eyes and wide posture,
directed North.

Unsettled dust under the frayed cage,
‘A final word, Brother?’
Complete silence.
solemn echo.
The Son is settling,

Crowd: take your prideful bow.
Aarin Mullins
Written by
Aarin Mullins
709
     ---, Andrew Name and PoetWhoKnowIt
Please log in to view and add comments on poems