poetry

Seeping

I seem to have lost the plot

along the way I’ve walked

The boisterous grass grew

Through the reflections,

cross-hatching the seams

of soil.

 

I’m glad I walked that way,

the slippery sun, ran into

my sweat. Ground road

ridges into me. The sky

uncorked the sun, draining

the dark into the ether.

 

 

 

 

 

PhilosopherPoet

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