Alphabet Soup Minuscule

J.C. Scheff

Rusted Souvenir’s


Numbness creeps in, slowly
As if it was the air.
Fingers folded together,
Restless, empty.

A pumpkin colored sun hides it rays.
A dented can,
As odorous rotten brew drips.

Words invisible.
A closed mouth, held tightly together.
Turns a different shade of grey.

A knot develops,
Thick like agate.
A sour taste-

One rusted souvenir,
Floating softly,
Hidden among leaves,
Of the same color

As hour’s slip past,
Like a cool wind-
Eyes closed, just to be with you…

Advertisements

Single Post Navigation

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Mistakes & Adventures

What I've always wanted

Taps and Ratamacues

A site for poetry and other stuff

Macclesfield Antiques

Not a dealer - downsizing and have some spare antiques

WJHL

Breaking news| Johnson City, TN | Kingsport, TN| Bristol, TN| Bristol, VA| Tri-Citiies Weather

The Müscleheaded Blog

"Nothing Exceeds Like Superfluous Jejunity "

%d bloggers like this: