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Silent as Soil.
By TheProphetUntold
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Day breaks nightside fires'
smoldered hissing whispers spent,
embers gleaming gold.
Smoke swirls swaying pine
choking rhythm and wisdom
restless and foiled.
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Sun-rent horizon
disembowels star and cloud
fog and water roil.
Birdsong death rattle
echoes under the conscious
silent as soil.
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Copyright 2020 TheProphetUntold
Published on Tuesday, November 17, 2020.
Filed under:
"Poetry"
Comments on "Silent as Soil."
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On Tuesday, November 24, 2020, carlosjackal
(2545)
wrote:
This is truly a fantastic late autumn poem. Winter's breath can be felt and we are reminded of our fragile mortality. Brilliant as ever.
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On Thursday, November 19, 2020, lupus tenebrae
(894) wrote:
Truly speaks to the cyclical inevitability of life and death: dour, yet beautiful, too. As always, I'm in awe of your words, glad to see you still frequenting these parts.
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On Tuesday, November 17, 2020, Bornfrompain
(896) wrote:
Wow this was a very powerful poem! Thank you for sharing!! - BFP
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