Pitch Black
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A Brian Strand Contest:
Retrospective 2024 Poetry...
Submitted 28 Dec 24
sullen is this night
bearing the burden of toil
as footwalk grows bleak…
crushed weeds,
skeletal trees :
molussk and corn
wait not for anyone
while sandstones drift
mocking the light.
Against kohl shadows
time stalls
to maim common workers
peeling the dark...ebon
craving for innocent stars;
that even stalks weep
slapped by winds--
how in blood of silence
men, women,children
wrestle with indignity
leashed on tattered marrow ,
yet they reap hope
until night’s edge---
restless thoughts gnaw
and... they gaze past clouds
finding comfort in the rain.
Copyright © Nette Onclaud | Year Posted 2024
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