Written for: The Sunday Whirl, Wordle #535
Words: fraught, lead, moment, might, glimpse, gap, low, shift,
shape, thrust, breath, sigh
The shape-shifter sighed,
leaving a gruesome gap
between his lips, from which
thrust forth, foul breath fraught
with disease. This was a low
moment. His might had been sucked
out by the new leader of their
species. He comforted himself
with thoughts of the Others
catching a glimpse of their
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.
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Nice one. I like this.
Oh, the ominous fear this generates! The description of the breath made me cringe. Well done.
Thanks so much, Raivenne!