deweeding.

breathless wilds, trickle through my arteries,
waiting for the sun to rise over the stalemate of the night
has it been so long that it’s all gone?
where did the hours go when
I could sleep?
taut and whipped,
vines disengage from my hands,
and I may reach out, once more
to my sun.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s