sinks into the final gasp,
a flame too bright for any sight,
fades not in thunder, but a rasp.
Ink etches yet into the sketch
no more the streets,
long shadows stretch,
fading color, sinking beats.
* My latest contribution to the wonderful One Shot Poetry Wednesdays! Once you’ve had a look, check out some of the other One Shot Poets as well– they’re a skilled bunch of poets, looking to form a community and support one another. Enjoy!
Photo by Chris Galford
The fire dips beneath the azure sea;
All eyes turn to their own hands.
No one spies the serpents slithering
From the long stretched shadows
Of a garden ripe with glistening fruit.
Demons whisper in the peoples’ ears—
The straw cast down,
The crows descend.
Fruit rots and garden fades—
Ravens circle high above
The corpses of the fools.
Old men stir within their ancient tombs—
The dream is dead,
Another Rome, decayed.
For The Thursday Poets Rally, Week 28.
Spread my wings and fly
Nestled in metallic womb
The birds laugh at us.
Swirling vortex bright
There’s storms on the horizon;
The sky is burning.
The world disappears—
Swirling veils of storm-wrought gray
Beneath blue expanse.