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Sunset in the Mountains

The fiery donut retreats
Into the mouth of an old man. 
Crooked and sharp, the teeth slowly devour 
The maroon wheel. Whose light casts
Onto the floating marshmallows,
Which the old man has yet to eat. 
The flames lick at his teeth,
With flecks of spinach in-between.
Before darkness falls and the man sleeps
Dreaming of his summer feasts
Beautifully arranged
Fit for a king.

A contest entry

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Comments


  • HereComesTheSun
    April 25

    Edit | Reply
    i love the wording of this piece and how well it was written, you really had a lot of creativity in this piece. thanks for entering