Photo prompt response to Crimson’s Creative Challenge #69
Word count: 101.
As though the sleep mist has trembled in my hands
In the distant overflows of shadows,
Descending in lament,
These shadows of our lament;
We walk into the light,
We walk to drown in celestial darkness,
Our nourishing gardens
In chrome-like bowls of red dirt and dust;
Stones erect in the mirage
With light traveling to discover
What our hands have made
As the dawn preys upon
The rocky birth in spectral lighting
Conquering in the exile of a gradual wind,
The rhythmic blood
Beating on your cold skin;
The reconstruction of blustering beauty
Before us in dreams we’ve never had.
© 2020 lucysworks.com All Rights Reserved.