Empty Stage

Esther Spurrill-Jones
Mar 19 · 1 min read
Photo by Claire P on Unsplash

The gallery is empty;
The doors are closed and locked;
I stand upon the dais,
Alone and in the dark.
All around is quiet;
The program long has wrapped;
The shadows long and heavy;
There’s nothing left but murk.

The Word Artist

Words have always been my art. They dance for me and sing for me. They laugh for me and cry for me. They are my paint and brushes. They are my clay.

Esther Spurrill-Jones

Written by

Poet, lover, thinker, human. New book of queer poetry out: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0845ZQQM2

The Word Artist

Words have always been my art. They dance for me and sing for me. They laugh for me and cry for me. They are my paint and brushes. They are my clay.

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