What shifting, what scuddling,
peeping, muffle sounded and
slow doom--
These rats inside the walls,
hungry like winds and eroding us
to silent and pale sepulchre
dwellers in the coming night.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Somewhere Beyond the Wheel
A Haibun The sound of the hawk’s talons as they click against the cement floor is sharp and crisp. The raptor moves carefully, head duc...
-
We have been dreaming in unison but those dreams have fallen into disrepair, eaten away by the persistent rust of the many days here...
-
This ringing silence this house, once filled a place of voices now gone silent, a place that once echoed with the laughter of the...
-
Note: I taught a poetry class at Fyrecon this afternoon, and we did a few challenge poems during the participation segment of the class. Th...
No comments:
Post a Comment