Friday, December 8, 2017

SKEPTIC

A fragile winter sky—
the kind which is
everywhere

and nowhere
at once—spare,
polar blue,

and fissured
through
by high contrails—

might well
crack and
unburden itself

any minute—
depending on
whether certain words

whispered down here—
are scalpels 
or stitches.

No comments:

Post a Comment

HOW DO YOU FEEL?