When the mist thickens.

Poetry mist through barren spindly trees in the night

When the mist thickens,
gestures shiver
in the encroaching chill
disjointed voices
hiss behind closed shutters
promises scratched
on yellowed pages
drip in fresh ink
chest drawers slide
hollow and empty, there
there it gathers
unformed, unseen
the haunting, of
the unspoken.

. . .










7 responses to “When the mist thickens.”

  1. Mysterious;y beautiful..just like the image..your words trasport us to enigmatic lands.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. or a haunting one too 😛 Thank you really, Karima ❤

      Like

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