We've been counting down the days
since Sunday afternoon, and finally
it arrives, like the gift of sunlight on skin.
I am free, I have no ties, and yet these
routines move me like reverberations
from the broken spokes of spider webs.
The classroom windows reflect me
distorted, one of many students
hanging onto the hope of end-of-lesson
bells threading through the corridors.
YOU ARE READING
Fields of Asphodel
PoetryA poetry collection inspired by mythology, nature, and poetry itself. The style will be a bit different to what I wrote for Clockwork Lives, but I feel personally that it is an improvement. :)
