Wilting before the bloom,
long before the sun
wakes to the warmth
of changing seasons,
as birds huddle,
through the dark,
into late dawn
- you have wilted
my friend.
Unfulfilled thirst,
like an itch
that never eases
- only slower,
as the sapping
of energy drags
the feet into tripping,
wears the soul
and gathers mud.
Late for school
becomes late for work,
becomes too late
to claw back
resonances
of life potential
- hope shimmering
under a heavy veil
of grey mood.
Author notes
memoirs of a tough morning...
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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i love the first two stanzas the most. you had some strong images there. thanks for entering and good luck
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I like the tone of this. Couple of spelling errors. I love the line "as the sapping
of energy drags
the feet into tripping"
passive voice is appropriate in this instance.
nice ending
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Thanks for the spells zig. Crumbs, a couple! there were at least 4 I had to fix. That'll teach me for not reviewing
.
Thanks also for the encouragement
Wishes -Emmjay
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