The Scene of the Crime
The gray of fallen
things seems leached from the lead sky
and washed by the rain,
draining back into
the gated river beyond dreams
of warmer places
themselves sucked and parched,
wrinkled and wizened and dried
from the wave action
of the neighboring
and turbulent salt laced sea.
In such disturbance
I find you face down
and partial, streaked and drilled through
one hundred five times.
July 26, 2015 11:07 AM
I kept looking at that head, so beautifully rendered, and I thought of this:
ReplyDeletehe kisses the earth
and the earth
trembles
Lovely take
ReplyDeleteWell done, from the title to the final line.
ReplyDeletethat is beautiful
ReplyDeleteThank you for your kindnesses, my friends. I recognize all the names and some of you more than that. The internet can be a friendly place.
ReplyDeletenicely done- well thought out.
ReplyDeleteThank you, see above.
DeleteBeautiful writing, Christopher...
ReplyDeleteThank you
Deletenice take on the prompt
ReplyDeleteAshamed
Thank you, see above.
DeleteWrinkled and wizened and dried...delicious...
ReplyDeleteWe need to figure out that friggin sea. DOWN WITH THE SALT LACED SEA. no more gray for me
ReplyDeleteWhat an interesting comment.
Delete