Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Dec 2014
The path pulsed
and sent shockwaves up my legs,
churning miles behind me,
but still miles before me.

I kicked dust into clouds;
weeds shrank from the sun
as my eyes burned
and matched the colour of the sky.

When the rain fell I laughed
and opened my mouth –
not sure I caught any drops,
but still, it was raining.
Ricky Barnes
Written by
Ricky Barnes  Norwich
(Norwich)   
408
   Devon Webb
Please log in to view and add comments on poems