Stain
Today the clouds thicken like gravy-
ink blots stain the sky.
Silence after silence unloads
its ill will at my feet.
I am accustom to it
and it has settled.
The sky continues to ashen
as it swallows the pine trees
like a relentless Sandpoint, Idaho snowstorm
consuming all in its way.
The day spills its impressions
like a half-full glass
which leaves me as empty
as an astounding wail
from a 90-year-old woman's
crippled up body.
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.
