echos from the weeks that passed
now that the heat
is no longer captured
night comes cooler
soothing these trees
monsoon’s last vestures
marked only by fog
rolls back into canyons
reverberations of you
the day’s fury settles
with eery silence lingering
hangs heavy as wet rugs
dripping emotive torrents
unsettling stillness
how you haunt my lawn
walking sharp edges
pierces the beauty
worn are your words
remains of this week
like porcelain soldiers
splintered on Italian tile
Pingback: Homepage
Whats Taking place i am new to this, I stumbled upon this I have found It positively helpful and it has aided me out loads. I hope to contribute & assist other users like its helped me. Great job. eceeckeaecdd
LikeLike
Thanks. It’s poetry and it comes from the deepest places within.
If you find it helpful, I am grateful. Please feel free to add your comments, reflections and how these slices of time apply to you.
Namaste. maysa
LikeLike