Friday, March 13, 2009

back in black.

"White"
the electric green grass,
the electricity
of the night air,
the elasticity
of the moment,
the plywood
over the resting river,
the petals settled
at your feet,

here,
in this place of whispers
shushing wind
stillness
silence




frost




your lips
ponderosas
sigh

gusts,
the burnt bark
wanders,
daises
in the wind

dandelions,
complexions

all white,

all white




all white




I just think this is a sick poem. As in, tell me if you like it.

2 comments:

  1. You enter the contest?

    This one is original. I liked how it made me feel relaxed.

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  2. Really cool. I like the beginning stanza. And the the long spaces. Johns right about it being relaxing.

    Maybe it could move more? Like, take me somewhere emotionally, change a bit.

    ReplyDelete