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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Published on Monday, January 11, 2021. Filed under: "Poetry"

Comments on "Silent as Soil."

On Tuesday, November 24, 2020, carlosjackal (2787) 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.
On Thursday, November 19, 2020, lupus tenebrae (860) 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.