The slender fingers of frost-
bitten roads spread out
in the silver light of a day
caught
between the rising of a cold sun,
the afternoon draped in her sheer coverings,
and the dimming light of evening.
They wound around
the supple breasts of the hills bound
in emerald, glittering with
the cold huffs of breaths from
the translucent lips of a sky clothed
in iridescent silver dangling from her wrists
like thin metal bangles.
Winter possessed the people, black
against the sea of white, as they
tread to their lonely mailboxes
at the edges of the frost-bitten fingers
wrapped around the breasts in green
shining under the pieces of a silver sky
and back home on January's bare abdomen.
YOU ARE READING
Once, We Lived | Poetry Collection Completed
PoetryA collection of poetry from the high-school years of an semi-angsty teen with too much time on her hands. This is an exploration of the different facets of life and the perceptions of a teen of the 2010s with a knack for words. Warning: contains con...
