Edwards Poem

A vesper murmured

To an empty vent

Coated in dust, moist

With snails dew

An earthworm is tied

By the hands of a toddler

Into a bow his sister wore

Before they burrowed

Into her skull

A father is plowing

The fields at dusk

Talking to the old trees

Chopping down the old trees

And sleeping in their trunks

The young girls mind is now old mud

Strewn across the kitchen floor

To be played with in the backyard

A home for families of stinkbugs and moles

Thick fog trapped in the house

Straw men eroding in the wind

Sores replace a sick dogs fur

Children boil on an iron skillet

The sun has melted all the clouds

And the sun has melted all the trout.

Author's Note

A poem my lovely decided to share with me one day. I thought it was pretty good for something like this. Enjoy xx