Into the cold.

The dark winged wisp

in the cold,

into the silence

of the sea.

The ocean awakes

into the shapes of light

gone, part of one

sipping the rain

there’s one season alone.

There’s glory into the sun

winding the red

into the willows

lost into the mind

of cool light,

Writhing into the present

blue as ever in a

sense of dew

as the sea follows

like the past always does

Rising on the sleeping mist

roaming among

the blown tombs of dust,

eliciting in the dreamed

air,

drowsed in the weeping wind

nurtured in the dark.

© 2020 lucysworks.com All Rights Reserved.



Categories: Poetry

Tags: , , , , , , , , ,

12 replies

  1. Very eerie and beautiful.

    “roaming among
    the blown tombs of dust”

    Beautiful!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Beautiful verses Lucy! Loved the intensity and the rhythmic flow but was especially captivated by these words “as the sea follows like the past always does…” Great work! My greetings from Spain,
    Francisco

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Oh wow, Lucy! This is magnificent! ❤️ I love those last lines… so well crafted.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Truly I’m captivated by every single word and line–my fave pick: “Writhing into the present”…not sure why (my self-analysis hasn’t kicked in yet), but I can relate to it. And I also love the line about the sea always follows…and the 2 final lines. See? I could just go one and on and on–love it!!

    Liked by 1 person

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