deepundergroundpoetry.com

gone till November

jets sing low
as if flying from my soul
the black of nights
fight winds of north
gods do cry
as fleeting moments morph
hollow shells lay on naked beach
shadows disperse to leave bare trees
roots untangled
clearer seas

heavy heart
weightless soul
he who forgets
is destined to remember

still a question....

left in November  
Written by Blackenedsole (Boreas)
Published
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