the air shatters
thin sheets of cold glass
cutting through the new born flesh of buds
roses blooms red
fall
like droplets of blood
they disappear
into
the thirsty snow
thin sheets of cold glass
cutting through the new born flesh of buds
roses blooms red
fall
like droplets of blood
they disappear
into
the thirsty snow
Two poems back to back...this theme of disappearance. And I wonder what is leaving.
ReplyDeleteLove your poetry, you are really good! It begins with a honest introduction of a deep browned eyed soul who has seen through to the other side of the black hole. I want to come back and read more of your work. I am going to bookmark your page. My short stories & poems are at http://bustedonempty.blogspot.com/ cheers Venus!
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