Puddle on the bed
The angry cries of the cat
Have called me from deep slumber
He is hurt and cannot move
Curled in the warm spot against me
The angry cries of the cat
Crows warn through the cold air
He is hurt and cannot move
Six hours of October, nine days of fall
Leaves crack and rustle in the wind
Crows warn through the cold air
The full moon gives way to the sun
Six hours of October, nine days of fall
Have pinched our cheeks ruddy while
Wind takes the voices of the trees.
The full moon gives way to the sun
He is hurt and cannot move.
October 1, 2012 at 6:25 pm
Beautiful~
LikeLike
October 3, 2012 at 5:57 am
I love the circling in this poem, Brandy, how you shift the thoughts yet stayed true to the repeating. Beautiful and excellent written.
Ciao, Francina .
LikeLike
October 3, 2012 at 10:41 pm
Thank you for your comment. Your feedback is so appreciated. Best, bens
LikeLike