A Tale With No Rails
A tale with no road maps, no signposts, or mile posts.
Snowstorms stench of winter's busy breath;
dagger dances;
trampled plants plead.
Flings a wanton pebble; on mud, a sparrow thuds;
wing-clipped parakeet limps; eyes freeze with awe.
Azure sky mourns, clotting clouds together;
tear-flood bleeds healing earth, yet drought's monarchy reigns.
How long, how long should we long for
drizzles, gently sprinkling drizzles?
disconnected
thoughts arise — die.
Syllables- 12/10/4/4 12/10/10/12 8/8 4/4 (howmanysyllables.com)
*A 1st Place* in the following contest (judged on March 8, 2021)
March 1, 2021
ALL YOURS (Mar 8) Poetry Contest
Contest Sponsor: Brian Strand
Copyright © Newton Ranaweera | Year Posted 2021
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