The Guest
The moon,
a medicine bottle shaking silt and shadow,
drunk to the bottom by
shifting clouds, thirsty for the
the stilt man stalking
pitch roof Brooklyn
warm night July.
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.
