Impressive piece

Quas Production


peaceful baiting
calling to old souls
lost to skills
of weaker willed
soft bones frayed through new blindfolds

careful waiting
blowing in the wind
spinning free
through tumble weed
grown brown from dead blank grins

Through the door of the lighthouse merriment is blue
Shine the light on the parchment grievously perfumed

boastful painting
glowing green glass eyes
blinking red
in pixie beds
floating across the sky

cross town blaming
barking for a lane
sifting stains
from gutter drains
impervious to rain

Over in the sandbox a patron saint digs holes
sifting for the blank page a bitter life once stole

Complete collection on the Lyric/Poem page
Photo – mine.

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