Slung low in the sky
It lingered lost and found
Kissing the ground
While I sighed
The wind swept leaves
Whispered relief
From sultry breathes
Skilled at deaths
And beyond belief
The mid day eaves
Imperfectly recoils
Beneath the shimmering slurry
Freedom from the biting teeth
Warped to others
Same underneath
Romantic notions are all the same
Byron is surely one of those to blame
No comments:
Post a Comment