Oct. 29/ 11:14AM/ Romanticism Class

ImageBrassy light,
these sweeping winds sling feathers
spinning wheel spells, catching raw sunlight
reflecting
the path, as page, as compass
and animal whimpers, howls, for dreams fear had put to sleep.

Whispering with the–
consonants of a shiver
in the moment while the meridians still spin
’til earth’s portrait,
kissed by valleys of fingerprints
–stops.

Another layover
turns your veins into two lane highways
slicing through rusty dirt nowhere
needle pricks of stars under skies without end,
to a trading posts at the crossroads,
that will take all you love, for all you long for.

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EC Prompt: Sadness

A prompt that I took a jab at for my writing circle.

When your alarm screamed for attention, you had no eyelids.

The world, as is, today then.

Your head hangs, gallows low, in a staring contest

with the shower drain, puddles and gutters.

Tongue a sloven slurry of lukewarm paper mache,

staining your teeth with your own, rotting opinions.

Legions of soldiers, side by side, on their backs

in your veins, what a waste of a war.

No blinking, now, or you’ll miss it.

Every face in the street, just like the one,

who used the juices of your core,

to cleanse their palate.