Tea sips tremble widely to the stomach I taste lemon, I taste scarlet Arizona has a place for us I was told the future is there
By bethany alice6 years ago in Poets
Am I the first for a while to walk past the end of Poplar Street past factories, mills, grain elevators the caves and castles we found
This scholar of night created chords of a symphony a grinding curiosity appetite to quench, higher reality to see swelling planets under colliding stars swinging, squishing, and expanding
Sometimes at murky lake with the tall tales Breaking a green sealant on runny marsh Some endure, some only submerge Others go deep below into darkness
4 a.m. The ground exhales after a long night Small blades of grass rear their heads All the same shade of fire-gilded green