deepundergroundpoetry.com

Ancestors

Dead leaves tap-dance  
across pebbled pavement,  
enticing a lazy day  
to guard my energy,  
 
allowing it to flow along channels  
unseen by eyes that watch  
gray clouds swirl into  
soft, pastel hues.  
 
Chilled fingers  
grip downy blanket edges,  
eyes rocking body to sleep.  
 
The nightscape,
in languid rotation, swallows  
the light, and it is here--  
  
They speak in tongues.
Written by Eerie
Published | Edited 17th Dec 2023
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 13 reading list entries 3
comments 11 reads 313
Commenting Preference: 
The author encourages honest critique.

Latest Forum Discussions
COMPETITIONS
Today 8:33pm by Rew
SPEAKEASY
Today 8:30pm by Rew
SPEAKEASY
Today 8:29pm by Strangeways_Rob
COMPETITIONS
Today 7:52pm by Grace
COMPETITIONS
Today 7:00pm by Ahavati
SPEAKEASY
Today 6:57pm by Ahavati