PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Unspoken,

we will whittle

whispering rock crumbs

into

a sculpture of sound.



       cohesive.



In my palm I hold

shattered syllables

to plant in soil

fertile with connection,

sprinkled with droplets of candor,

and wait

for resurrection.



Two oaks

spring up in their ascension

to gianthood.

The branches of one

curl in cultivation

around another

instinctually.



And the land becomes a zion

as we see on the horizon

Autumnal shades

skulk over in a haze

of tinted ruby,

misty gold,

and carrot sprays.



Leaves shed

a tender foliage of whole sentences

on the pasture,

sunk,

replanted for added

musings

to our script.