There are days where endless talk just stops. It quells the spells of bickering in the house. The moon waits for curtain call to unveil its presentation of the blue, the harvest, the wolf, the red, the many moons above. Love lost on the moon, unimpressed with the fray. Day lingers, seamless gray. Attention brought eyes to stray, the burnt grass, the brown, the solemn day. Fickle he is to fitter away the black oceans, the starlight, the peck peck pecking of flamingoes, in the gulf’s bay. Moon oh moon! Star oh star! Frighten me not, love far. Dry grass and pavement clayed, broken, shards left to shambles, in disarray. The macadam in ruins, the buried graves. The endless talk breaks the day.
Photo by Jan Tinneberg on Unsplash
#Prose #Poetry #Verse
Really wonderful use of the words, beautiful.
LikeLiked by 1 person
thanks!
LikeLike
This is so good. Like a moment in time that stretches out.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you? That’s exactly how it felt too 👍🏻
LikeLiked by 1 person
Ha. Don’t know how that became a question mark 😆
LikeLike