Friday, April 23, 2010

NaPoWriMo #23

untitled

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.

4 comments:

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. http://booksareagarden.blogspot.com/2010/04/award_29.html