(Photo: Noita Digital on Unsplash)
The swirl of white had gotten
In her eye.
Placed a tickle in her
Throat.
The door would close.
The chairs will sleep with bottoms
Against table
Tops.
There would be no more
Early morns.
No damp sponge
To erase all of yesterdays’
Chalk.
For the dVerse quadrille poetry challenge: chalk in 44 words
Photo: Inbar Asif
He lay himself
Bare
On the ground.
Stripped into
A fraction of his
Former self, yet
In his memory
A giant
Still,
And let the blanket of
Red
Caress him
Through to the
Other side of life,
And into the
Eternal
Sleep.
For the dVerse poetry challenge: red
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