Zivjeli
What just brushed past me?
Like wheat pricked, dry.
The sky, she said.
Ah, and some wonder why.
We drink! ‘Til vision of inquiry pales.
Palled upon the violet sky bales.
Copyright © Nicholas Rush | Year Posted 2015
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment