Poem -
Mary Jane
Water; a sheet of silk,
Trees like humble, bearded men.
We sit, inhaling nature,
AndΒ nature inhaling us.
The roots swallow us hole,
We awaken the rabbits for directions,
Passing agitated puddles of ants,
Until flashes of beauty and mystery fly us well..
Spirals of smoke leave me,
Now every puff is an exhale of you.
I see you in the clouds,
Leaving me with the stain of tobacco.
You were my sweet sanity,
The saviour to my psychotic mind.
Yet now alone, I descend,
Left with nothing but the darkness that takes me.
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Comments
hi Phoebe, kind of a sad poem, to be honest, it startled me how quickly it descended into sadness, had to go back and read it again, still a really sad tone, well written but palpablyΒ sad, good post....have a great holiday season
Spirals of smoke leave me,
Now every puff is an exhale of you.