Friday, April 23, 2010

NaPoWriMo #23


Sand kicks up behind
mountains of legendary
treasures and secret stories,
whispered at nighttime
bonfires and moonlight
forest meetings.

The minute hand on the
clock snaps around,
rhythms blending into a
whirl that dissolves to

a fine layer of dust in
an abandoned shed
and quiet words carefully
traced into the floor.


Edge said...

Ooh. :D I like.

Connie said...

I hadn't heard of NaPoWriMo before but what a great idea. And the last line in your poem, of words traced in the dust, is stunningly beautiful.

Nonie said...

I like the last two stanzas. Actually, the whole poem is lovely. :)

Rachel said...

I like this poem a lot. Since your poems and posts are so good I have a award for you.