Page Torner
Those sucked wind nights
where cloud are never left to rest
in there formless complaints
wrapped in marshmallow gulp
Where splattered rains
mould the skin
in lakelets spawn
Taste the charge of storm
bitter in its cheapness
but father of this
page torn
and words
strewn
Copyright © Christopher Quigley | Year Posted 2020
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment