image from postercraft.com
The clock dissolves into a thin gray hum, a thought forgetting what it meant to become. Shadows rearrange themselves along the wall~ slow creatures crawling toward a purpose they never reach. A single particle of dust drifts past my face, glowing like a tiny planet that has lost its orbit and doesn’t mind. The room tilts slightly, as if time has grown tired of holding itself upright~ the hours sliding loose.
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
