rolling the bright bones
By sonora
Fri, 25 Sep 2015
- 947 reads
3 comments
I grow what I am given.
Scatter the seeds across
a random plot, then water
with tears and laughter.
I partition this bed at whim.
Tend each bud and name
them for moonshine, earth,
broken dreams and fancy.
I watch your smile spread.
Turning to the light with that
look of luck, flipping a deck
and rolling the bright bones.
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Comments
first line, last line, those
first line, last line, those in between, make it seem bright and brittle.
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I guess that's all you can do
Permalink Submitted by loquaciousicity on
I guess that's all you can do... and hope for the lucky'7'...
nice poem!
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