The Painting

The horseman is not so very far, my darling

Pitted with the cornered moth

Swaying from his own plateau

A ghostly shadow in fluorescence

Fading from

red to white parlor

Hooves thundering over Celtic nails

He strangles there from assumption

The terror of reeds

Sweeping circles

And the rain and suicide galloping

Pasture to cliff

Imprints freshly melted into the calves of earth

A splatter of rune stones

And you are this my divination

Lying next to me

In skin,

 water cleansed and peach

Wondering

Where artiste has died

 

Reviews

[Alisa Js]

Yesterday in the mid morning as it began to rain, I watched leaves flutter in slow motion as the wind wailed through...it almost felt like a hiccup in time and for a brief moment, I was beholding an altered universe...


...I had the same sensation as I read throug this piece.

Interesting....I will contemplate this experience and return.

Alisa💫

[Perdition]

Smiles HI...sounds like quite the morning...

[Alisa Js]

🌟 it was, indeed...

[MAC]

really must come to the cafe more often. have missed reading gems like this. you have one of the most unique visions i have ever come across. and per the usual for you, the entire poem is original. LOVE the line "Imprints freshly melted into the calves of earth". seriously great stuff! that alone is worth the read!

[Perdition]

Regards and Thanks until your return.