#cent
Morning pallor on a grey day
not a five cent shine
to the sun.
Bitumen hissed all night
trees tossed and tangoed
shuddered and split.
Navy clouds, blue with rain
surfed in from the ocean
racing on the wild wind
learning to scream.
The stones listened
moon listed and tried to find
a space in the cloud-tide rush
to quiet-light the gloom.
Morning Armistice on a pale grey day
of debris and displacement
refugees and leaf litter
surrender and detachment
silent and still
only a five cent shine to the sun
© M.L.Emmett
Aug 1, 2014
Aug 1, 2014 at 1:33 PM UTC
I have nothing valuable besides you
Don't have a single cent
Lost every possession
You are the one thing that hasn't left
Apr 16, 2020
Apr 16, 2020 at 12:47 AM UTC