A vacuum burns to a halt
the dust settles
so now you look for a broom
Yet one can not be found
hay is strewn in blusters aftermath
and hinges rust from constant turmoil
Looking around, nothing but white
hearing no sound, feeling no breath
confusion screams
Embrace yourself in a pillowed haven
Author notes
Host Prompt: The years vanished in one word.
A contest entry
- PIF PROMPT CONTEST by penman.
700 points, ended September 26, 2008, 10 entries
Gold trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Can you guess my "one" word?
Comments
-
Wonderful
Very well done. Best of luck in the contest
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