Genesis In March
The first six days;
a cold stage
waiting for snowdrop
orphans;then the rest,
the sky of constant sorrow
breaking thanks to brittle
light.The white bones
devoid of recall,the crust
of cold loam hanging
alone.Travel this way
again.missing on a thrown road.
It waits.
Post Comments
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.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.