Get Your Premium Membership

This Tipped

Wood, she gazed across to their titanium towers from her granite perch across the wide fair and wandering what's written for her; and her ladder rungless, jake's steps swallowed up, feathers pouring through like ripe red sack from defrocked casks as dusk starts dining on the day: night's spigot -- this delirious inkpot tipped.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2011




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

A comment has not been posted for this poem. Encourage a poet by being the first to comment.


Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry