Friday, September 7, 2012

Fall Back




Brisk weather
autumn still
snatched my pencil
drained my quill

Inkless scripture
nameless bite
whipped my fingers
How to write?

Sharply timid
yielded in
dreadful copies
of a grin

Whipped by tides
of a thought
Ahead unknown
nestled a knot

Coward mind
turned its back
Will stayed there
opened track

Now standing 
on a hill
tasting sunlight
through the chill

It’s a promise
I won’t run
I’ll step gently
on your fun





Z.K.



Creative Commons LicenseΑυτό έργο χορηγείται με άδεια Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Ελλάδα.