Her flame
spread upon
his heart
red on red
he faced
No prayer
in hand
or a cup
share forth
His full moon
ran away
leaving heart's
On fire
To seethe, where
Her pass hurts
Logan Robertson
5/20/2019
There's a poetry contest I've come across
at Poetry Soup-Charlieku.
It challenges the contestants with a new
poetry form-15 lines./with these syllable counts
(23232), (3232), (323), (23), (3)
Interesting form. Stimulated my thoughts
as I look outside the window.
Some men have a moon that looks
over them through and through and the feeling is reciprocal.
That would be the plan. Sigh.
