my roots soaked in soil
under the loose marsh and the moon
'neath a symphony of singing toads
an empty bottle night in june
memory tiles the mosaic mind
scent of earth and wood and stone
the worship of a summer night
flowered fragrance of my home
the now becomes a memory
night rushes into day
hold my eyes open, ward off sleep
and keep the future at bay
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1 comment:
your words and emotions are set in slow motion, it's one of the kinds of poems i like to read and dont want it to end. more please.
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