deepundergroundpoetry.com
her december rains
long time she sat
the forest is not always a pretty place
hollows of the trees
they invariably harbour decay
the sodden floor
every step
a stab
her six inch heels
burying more dead
each dig
not long enough
not long enough
it never is
till the crow's caw
echoed
. .
the forest is not always a pretty place
hollows of the trees
they invariably harbour decay
the sodden floor
every step
a stab
her six inch heels
burying more dead
each dig
not long enough
not long enough
it never is
till the crow's caw
echoed
. .
Published 7th Nov 2020
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