rain-slick steps


Let wind whistle flat across the ridge,
and let market stallmen shout their trades—
we keep a covenant made of simpler things.

You are the steady hand that steers Noon,
fire that waits behind heavy-lidded Moon
when rain begins to slick the cobblestones.








Poetry by anonface
Read 20 times
Written on 2026-06-16 at 02:18

dott Save as a bookmark (requires login)
dott Write a comment (requires login)
dott Send as email (requires login)
dott Print text


Sameen The PoetBay support member heart!
A brief but poignant piece. I like it, especially it’s muted ness.
2026-06-16