Nov 2020
As slightly rusting walls collapse,
A pressure beyond worlds moves south.
Shards of dirt,
Shooting towards the ground;
Grains of rebar,
Dropping like bullets.
And flakes of snow,
Spiraling in their conceited madness.
Yet the sun still rises.
Cold frost against warm air;
A flickering blue behind the shadows,
And an unsullied white
When lying within the sunlight.
A pressure beyond worlds moves south.
Shards of dirt,
Shooting towards the ground;
Grains of rebar,
Dropping like bullets.
And flakes of snow,
Spiraling in their conceited madness.
Yet the sun still rises.
Cold frost against warm air;
A flickering blue behind the shadows,
And an unsullied white
When lying within the sunlight.
The title carries a different meaning with that comma, well at least to me. I’m playing with imagery once again. How’d I do?
