Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
Water under the bridge, rolling and tumbling, kissing the river's edge. Trees bend in the breeze. The lonesome moon calls out to the stars. His ***** strikes the earth, overturning a crawler's night lunch. A bottle of *** shared by two who steer clear of the fire's orangey fingers. Fingers to fry the catch under the night's sky.
0
Aug 17, 2015
Aug 17, 2015 at 1:22 PM UTC
Night Crawler
Water under the bridge, rolling and tumbling, kissing the river's edge. Trees bend in the breeze. The lonesome moon calls out to the stars. His ***** strikes the earth, overturning a crawler's night lunch. A bottle of *** shared by two who steer clear of the fire's orangey fingers. Fingers to fry the catch under the night's sky.
irving-macpherson
Written by
New Scotland
Aug 17, 2015
Aug 17, 2015 at 1:22 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem