Published in
1 min readSep 20, 2017
tales of whispers
The skies played a pretense
Of leaves fallen in disarray
Fingers were covered in ash
Thoughts fish within a maze.
The wind told a story
A strange tale of water
The rustle of steps woven
In scripts of closing dawn.
We held no handles over
Lights do not seek these labyrinths
Pendulum echoes deep in caves
Eyes in sweaty dreams soaked .
How far do these tales wade?
How long the miles wander?
The day sought only the night
Rivers on curved edges spill.
