deepundergroundpoetry.com

God

Sunlit garden. In the reflection of the glass
when you tip to drink, it seems
that you have your fingers wrapped around the sky.
The treeline wavers above, lost in wind and the Coke
as it smashes and breaks on cliff-glass.
Would you be God, then? Your hands
carving holes in the sky; your fingers
leaving black gaps in the cloud?
God sits in the sunlit garden, drinks,
and dreams of ugly things.
Written by annie-lang
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 0 reading list entries 0
comments 2 reads 893
Commenting Preference: 
The author has chosen not to accept new comments at this time.

Latest Forum Discussions
SPEAKEASY
Today 12:45pm by brokentitanium
POETRY
Today 12:42pm by Ahavati
POETRY
Today 12:40pm by Ahavati
SPEAKEASY
Today 12:34pm by Ahavati
SPEAKEASY
Today 11:52am by Paulajobi
SPEAKEASY
Today 11:02am by RyanBlackborough