Nomad
Like a nomad trespassing woodland's edge,
I rip moonbeams apart ; drain the pulp
of my marrow , shapeless—
wandering along tracks of old interludes
in mid Autumn's light.
And as the elixir of a world dilutes flawed refrains
through a self-alienation endured; a pounding
gust turns midnight into a wayward trance.
I was so close to the rhythm of myself,
this navel unbuttoned and numb
by aimless wanderings still, still...I took
absence of me; again.
11/13/2015
The Journey Begins
Matt Calliri's Contest
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.
