Top of the Rock At Midnight

Written for:  The Sunday Whirl, Wordle #603

Words:  night, flashes, you, mystery, bow, climb,
        emerge, grain, bearing, verge, heart, clash

Night flashes,
a mystery.  We seem
to be on the verge
of an emergence.  
We climb to apex
of grainy rock,
our hearts pounding
so hard we nearly
lose our bearings.
Clash!  An unknown
creature stands 
before us.  Bows.
'Who are you?' it
asks in perfect
English.  We could
ask the same if
we weren't frozen
in place.

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.
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