Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
May 2010
How does the sound of a saw
slither so sweetly
from bow through wire to bone
a perfect wavering banshee
whose wails cut not but
fill
the air
with every remaining frequency
required
but never imagined
before keratin kissed steel?
      (But will I ever find the notes I need?)
Written by
Chris Weir
941
     Kayla Manor, --- and Chris Weir
Please log in to view and add comments on poems