In Fits
I am to believe, as much,
that we have diamond shifts
so when those deeper July sniffs
take our anger to bending knee,
there might be magic confiding grief.
When quiet is far away from home,
you look my way in northern solace
like I am weather's furious promise,
trying to turn this mood a little faster.
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.
