The bugs whisper of your coming with their legs,
As the moon hides
Turning my edge of the world black
I cannot see, but through the pinholes of stars.
The trees rustle,
Shivering as you pass
Your heat removed.
I hear nothing
But nature rebelling against you.
But then all goes silent
The sea stalls,
The crickets feel your vibrations
Stopping them dead.
The trees hover in stasis,
Wishing they could uproot
Travel somewhere
You cant touch.
I welcome your chill
My bones make music enough
To fill the air,
My breathing
A sea roar, its own.
I am as aware of your presence
As the sea the moon
It cannot move
Without the other.















Comments
--
an antique arms and armor expert
Wishing they could uproot
Travel somewhere
You cant touch.
I welcome your chill
I always look through my deviations for yours especially. Everything about your writing is admirable to me; truly inspirational.
--
And I asked myself about the present: how wide it was, how deep it was, how much was mine to keep.
--Vonnegut
I love this poem. It flows so wonderfully and there is such great imagery
--
~Verbinden Sie mich in der Hölle.~
A sea roar, its own.
I am as aware of your presence
As the sea the moon
It cannot move
Without the other.
perfect. A special piece, has such a dark cadence..
--
BT.
"The truth knocks on the door and you say, "Go away, I'm looking for the truth," and so it goes away."
Robert M. Pirsig
Zen and the Art of Motorcycle maintanance
fantastic poem!
congrats on your DD!
I like the slant on nature that you've used here
--
Literature is inspired by madness but written by reason
--
Hello
When it all comes down to it, who cares?
Member of the =Space-Club
--
"Smile; and the Sun will shine on you, even in the shade" - Myself.
My work is not yours. Please do not use for any reason without my one hundred per cent consent. Thanks (:
--
"Art is what you can get away with."
Andy Warhol
--
My Poems | 25 words of Inspiration | My Prose
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