deepundergroundpoetry.com
ILS SONT DES INUITS
Cold gasps of air
Howling through narrow streets
Like lost, empty eyed souls
Restless leaves
In pale light beams
Wandering the pavement
Tormented citizens
Mere nomads, gathering
By northern wind
Howling through narrow streets
Like lost, empty eyed souls
Restless leaves
In pale light beams
Wandering the pavement
Tormented citizens
Mere nomads, gathering
By northern wind
Published 22nd Sep 2014
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22nd Sep 2014 11:40pm
it's a desolate scene of the season you bring, dramatically defined by your phrasing. nomads rustling in the wind. well plotted...
Anonymous
23rd Sep 2014 9:26am
The world of the inuit is still a mystery, greatly pictured by your words!
...no matter if you've painted a canvas filled with joy and love, or streets wet with despair.... the images are so bright, bold and beautiful.
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I had left dup when this ink and a few others were created. Missed out on some great writes.
*you do see what I'm trying to do right?! :) Come back, please...*
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I had left dup when this ink and a few others were created. Missed out on some great writes.
*you do see what I'm trying to do right?! :) Come back, please...*
