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Art

I run through
At
Times I feel the memory
A pace
Hearten beaten
Thumping

Flicks of time
relax me

Can dig that

Swinging to bird song beats
The call
yet disappear

to create
the beauty
that will come and go

grasping is a silent
dying art
Wanna paint

or
faint

Wanna write

and take fold what you create
be strong
spill the
forgotten
under done steak
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Mar 2017
About this poem:
Such beautiful art is silently around.

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Comments (1)

Redex
applause i can relate to this wonderfulapplause
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