Poetry

March

themoon

Everything had departed

I told them not to worry, there was nothing left to dream of

The last dewdrop had passed my lips, the final beat of the drum.

What happens when rhythms get disrupted?

Standard

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s