Verse 8: Forest

A cull of leaves, brittle, autumnal bright.
The heft of rook – majestic – crow in flight.
Their tear of screams in tree limbs, savage, torn
like beast, like brook – living, interred, unformed.

Advertisements

One thought on “Verse 8: Forest

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s