This Poem Sees Death

Written for:  Sunday Whirl, Wordle #442

Words:  fire, chime, demons, smirk, churn, score, future, breath, sigh, shower, murmur, learn

This poem is a churning
fire, breathed by murmurous

This poem sighs, sees
the future, and knowing
the score, smirks.

This poem chimes the fatal
bell, when showers of ash
fall from the skies,
and no one has learned.

About purplepeninportland

I am a freelance poet, born and bred in Brooklyn, New York. I live with my husband, John, and two charming rescue dogs–Marion Miller and Murphy. We spent eight lovely years in Portland, OR, but are now back in New York. My goal is to create and share poetry with others who write, or simply enjoy reading poetry. I hope to touch a nerve in you, and feel your sparks as well.
This entry was posted in Purple's Home and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.