pure colour in the dust

it is graven in the earth
in certain hollows
low pressure areas where
no spirit nor wind
would dare to encroach
you will hear nothing
as your nails tear ravenously
at soil and rootletsat the place where someone
once delicately inferred
a treasure of the ages
long ago was interred

Published by

Briar

Basically, I deal in words.

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 )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google 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 )

Connecting to %s