%%USERNAME%%    %%ACCWORDS%% %%ONOFF%% |
 |    10k views, 2x BestPoetryCollection. A nothing from nowhere cast words to a world wide wind |
| Gathering about my feet, Rushing to, fro, back, Some meet my eye, Temporary, suspend. Not like tiny white puffs. Not like purity icing taut face. Fun, frivolity beg me, chase! I lean into my lone implement — Dreaming with me — Dry, puzzling pair. Why repair — this, calloused. Forces greater ripple A patchwork loose-collecting — The only colors left Dehydrate, crisp Like fresh currency For a beleaguered soul Not cashing in, yet. How much more of this Bliss in an orange scene Without those little feet Departing from gravity, Up to their neck, beg me, Dive on in! Dive, daddy. I can’t remember how To enjoy this scene; can’t top The autumns we had, kids. She’s nearly bare; looks fridgid. Not bundled like me, unzippered, Releasing body heat And succulent sweat lent To the gray sky-air cool-coiling About a lone body clutching The dutious implement, Sent back to earth, combing Her green, brittle hair. When will white layers Hide us all in frozen perpetuity? 9.26.23 Maybe, I’ll work on this, break up, add punctuation, better expressions to capture visions and associated emotion. Reviewing, writing, alone. Seems perfect. |
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
