Sunday, 13 September 2015

Wind | An Assignment Piece April 2015

Moulding around the shape of your ears,
over
          under
                        into.
Rustling the leaves in their too tall trees,
rattle
          sway
                      fall.
Brushing your skin like a comforting hand,
it's okay
                you're fine
                                    chin up.
Carrying off your unspoken thoughts,
from your mind
                           through the air
                                                                far away.

No comments:

Post a Comment