milner place | not hard of hearing

not hard of hearing

i hear death
panting for its prey

said smily tell
with withered grin

what may i do
to drown it out

take steps i said
within your head

to where no shadows
fall on blood

where golden wine
flows in streams

macaws fly chatter
through seas of green

hear the wind
strum on pines

waves storm swept
by wild wraiths of birds

sit by the shallows
of a muttering beck

then breath of death
stirs not a leaf

Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.