Fate
the threshold to yesterday reveals fate-
there is no exit sign for tomorrow…
yet
mossy vines descend;
they fear nothing but Winter ~ as do i ~
as I sit upon a chair (softly broke),
i shield my eyes from the shaded canvas...
that stands next to me in crimson silence
I chose #3
Free Verse or Rhyme Contest
Eve Roper
September 3, 2019
Copyright © Lu Loo | Year Posted 2019
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