Storm, In Charcoal
Etching, catching
drawn to sketching~
~Charcoal fingers
dusting lingers
fine upon your lines
Calling, falling
blackened sprawling~
~Pencil staining
sweet refraining
humming paper shines
Reaching, teaching
to beseeching~
~ Shading pages
rearranges
thoughts to scattered form
Reeling, peeling
to the ceiling~
~Forms awaken
not forsaken
charcoal, evening storm.
Copyright © Tatyana Carney | Year Posted 2006
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