deepundergroundpoetry.com
12 Walls
Tip-toeing past the elders
Our path lit by
Cherry charcoal lanterns
Sweet smoke
Painted frayed rye grass
Charred lupine petals
No one could reach
the last plum
grown in the center of the old tree
The morning sun was too bright
Our path lit by
Cherry charcoal lanterns
Sweet smoke
Painted frayed rye grass
Charred lupine petals
No one could reach
the last plum
grown in the center of the old tree
The morning sun was too bright
Published 9th Aug 2019
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9th Aug 2019 9:57pm
