Cold Morning

 

Cold morning.
Cold morning.

In the cold

shrillness

of the warmest

thing in

the room,

I can tell

that

everything

so

delicately

constructed

will now

fall

apart.

 

Composed 04/12/14

Author’s Note: More practice with keeping the poems short. It was a rough couple of days.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s