Countenance
Listen to poem:
once vague metaphor
now pin pricks with emoji,
with door left ajar~
a notice slips in unnamed,
with ash on breath, match unlit.
fangs lurk in the mouth,
breath pockets the broken glass,
turns mist into sky~
a small rope sways between cliffs,
moored by threads too thin to see.
shadow in step's wake,
plank between the thing and hurt,
it strums without strings~
lips fondle a vague shape
till its fate becomes the wind.
Copyright © John Anderson | Year Posted 2025
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