In the drifts Summer slums and Winter shows
Stranger gifts inverse hums that no one knows,
Missing shifts, driving stolen cars on borrowed roads for now
Someone lifts ahem aha in bits of fog and hail farewell
Gold dust sifts the sunlit wall is high and all there is to tell
Is well withheld the sentence spelled backwards inside out and wrong
Mouths shut and weld repentance felled the words go hide doubt so long.

Poetry by Chaucer Whethers The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 440 times
Written on 2018-09-30 at 00:52

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