Member-only story
Poetry
Dunes In The Mist
Is that who and what I became?
Published in
Feb 15, 2025
Surreal fantasies,
gone like mist in the sun.
Stark skinny shapes in my dream
laughing, mocking me… Having fun.
Grey empty suitcases
playing hide-and-seek,
on life’s roundabout conveyor belt,
traveling to nowhere and everywhere.
Tears from a grey sky —
A rivulet on my cheeks.
Emotion storms,
a tide leaving me desert dry.
Time’s ripples,
sand-shifting me.
A forgotten sand dune
bleached by wind and sun.
Is that the painful skeleton I became?
Poem inspired by A Taste for Life’s Weekly Prompts: Edition 6, Prompt 5: Food for thought.
