It's raining hands today
somewhere over saphire seas
and pillows of stone.
Silver-pointed jigsaws
mark every numbered spot
where voices no longer hum,
yet another 'there' unfolds.
It hovers with twilight dust
over canyon craters and seashells,
pages burnt from books unread.
They, no more
but salt-water inside
distant pairs of eyes
begging for unrequited solace.
One more face sunsets a heart,
empty arms aghast with slumber
behind moving pictures inside the glass.
Earth, so soft now without
their steps, tonight shall
ready our beds for event
horizons we try to forget.
(but cannot escape)
Author notes
Based on the quote
"Death's brother, Sleep."
Virgil (70 BC - 19 BC), Aeneid
no death is less, some thoughts arised
from the quote, others just lingering
on the previous air disasters, yet wars
and disruptions are still waging on lives everywhere,
like JFK said:
"we all breathe the same air
and we are all mortal"
A contest entry
- Picture/Quote Prompts by cubert.
1800 points, ended July 30, 15 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
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Lovely imagery and use of language! (two p's in sapphire, though love
) SOme wonderfully unique phrases, and abstract enough to leave the reader to imagine possibilities. Enjoyed, and thank you for your entry!
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oh, it's back! awesome! I'm not going to do proper comments til the contest ends, but I am glad to see you put this in again
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