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Rated: E · Poetry · Other · #2217925
Looking out of a kitchen window for a moment.
The dusk grey sky is on the move
-this dusty yellow night
the clouds, are departing

Trees of arms stretched. Splintered
fingers reaching, unable
to make a difference
clouds pass every day

This night is different.
Natures animation; a jiggardly fro
with its rick rack veins spreading
reaches, straining

The paper cut, black silhouettes
of trees, move in unison
-a declaration of chaotic harmony
and unrest.

The silent motion
seen through a glass square eye
is quiet, calm

and almost welcome...

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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2217925-Dusk