There’s a cost to forever.
The flighty freedom of rain
collected in spare jars. The
way the road grooves left,
a gift. A sign. There’s mercy
at the center of these tides
that bind. But alas,
my mouth’s a ghost town,
making an empty grave
of my own dark tongue.
Splendid delivery. Well done.
As ever your imagery is spell binding.. the last verse so vivid..
a magic delivery from the box of words
“The flighty freedom of rain
collected in spare jars”
Amazing. Agreed, “flighty freedom…” is magic. But I like the ending as well, “mouth’s a ghost town” is stunning.
I found a gentleness in these words along with something powerful. You know how to write!
Wow. This is gorgeous, De. “There’s mercy at the center of these tides that bind.” 💗
This is amazing, from start to finish.
‘mouth’s a ghost town’ – Wow! Love this, De. Excellent use of words!