Minds Lost Willingly

The faucet runs like forgotten thought
forest filled and stacked like markets
vines envelope views of perception
miserable, gleeful prairies
trees laced with silicone bark
faithless glass, I see the reflection held
too far from sight
through bickering hands
falling, broken barns
falling from my eyesight
momentum gained
from minds lost willingly
along the lockers,
red

The End

3 comments about this poem Feed